Fortress of Walls
by Lordoftheghostking28
Summary: Scout gets blamed for the murder of his boss and is sent to the Games, where he walks a fine line between life and death. Survival looks next to impossible. One way in, only one way out: Death
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, behold the new story I should really not be writing, because I have essays to write and applications to fill out.**

**Hurray!**

**Basically the entire preface to this thing is right here, and other things will be explained along the way. This takes place in Scout's point of view. I own nothing but his name, I guess. Since he doesn't have one, I had to make one up. **

**Onward!**

**XxXxXxXx**

I never quite understood why people would continue to steal, lie and kill when they knew what was in store for them. Every week or so, another criminal would be caught and imprisoned, possibly killed. There were only a few rare cases when they were admitted to the Games.

One way to get into the Games was to be very lucky. A Player in the Games would die, and they would immediately take their place. Or, they could commit such a heinous crime that one of the Players is released from the Games so they can take their place. Players that exit the Games are never the same. They're...different. I've seen some 'before and after' pictures and articles on some of the Players that have been released.

They're insane for some reason; suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and having mental breakdowns that continue until they die. They usually end up taking their own lives a short time later. I don't know why. The Games are entertaining. Why is it such a crime to be sentenced to participate in them? And if they hate the Games so much, why do they still participate?

If the creators of the Games—Redford and Blutarch Mann—were still alive, I would ask them. Or one of their successors. They have a lot of those. I'm sure they could tell me why the Players don't want to play the Games. I'd have to make a mental note to check in on that soon—

A loud bang brought me back from my thoughts. I jumped and stared up into the face of my instructor, who glared down at me.

"Miles, what do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing..." I mumbled.

"Exactly," she pointed to the keyboard in front of me. "I want these reports by tonight. Tonight! Do you understand? I need all of them by tonight!"

With that, she turned in a flourish of her outrageous yellow and orange dress and lumbered away. I sighed and ran a hand across my hair as I turned back to the computer monitor.

I hate my job. I really do. Out of all the jobs to be assigned, I have to work as a dental assistant? I don't even do the cool stuff I was promised! I just sit and update medical record after medical record...report after report...! It's mind numbingly boring!

Oh well. At least I have a job. Some of the people who are job-ready don't pass the exams. I should be thankful for what I've got. I've gotta support Ma somehow, right? It's insane after how the women have their firstborn, they're not allowed to work ever again…

I was actually extremely lucky for a 23 year-old with a forged birth certificate. It said I was at the employment age, 25, when really I was just a few years behind the legal working age.

...Why do we have to wait until we're 25 to get a job, anyway? Why not whenever we wanted? Who set these rules up, anyway? Why can't I work as something a little more interesting, like—

"_MILES_!"

I nearly flipped the keyboard at the booming voice behind me. I spun around, fully prepared to punch someone square across the head, to face my instructor again.

"You haven't done anything for five minutes! How did you pass the exams? Get to work!"

Right...that's enough daydreaming for today. I really need to lay off the caffeine...

**XxXxXxXx**

The Games were tonight!

After a week-long hiatus of no action, they were finally starting up again. Maybe they had to replace a Player, who knows.

As soon as I returned home from my lame job, I grabbed some money and darted out again. I wanted a good seat, after all. The arenas fill up quickly.

Maybe I would finally be front row and center! ...A kid can dream, can't he?

Just getting into the arena took about a half hour. By the time I got a seat, most of the place was filled up. I ended up on the left, but I still had a good view of the shadowy area below. Three giant jumbotrons lined the far wall. I would be able to see the best action. Everywhere along the walls were ads for Mann Co., which sponsored the Games. The posters depicted hats of every colour, size and shape imaginable. Some of these hats were sitting atop some of the more wealthy spectators' heads.

It wasn't long before the lights in the stands dimmed. The lighting on the arena grew brighter; the screens of the jumbotrons matching the landscape. Everyone in the place grew deathly silent.

"_Mission begins in sixty seconds. Do not fail me_." A pre-recorded female voice boomed.

The jumbotrons began a countdown. As they slowly ticked downward, people filled the arena, colour coded to represent their alignment. The REDs were defending, the BLUs were attacking. The mission was looking like a capture-the-flag.

_"Mission begins in 50 seconds_."

Each team had nine members. Each person had a specific role, and they were divided into three sections. There were attack, defense and support; three to each.

A lumbering mountain of a man exited the BLU base to get into position. Close behind him was a shorter, skinnier man in a lab coat. The Heavy and the Medic. On both teams they always attacked together; even though Heavies were primarily hardcore defense.

They took position on one side of the short bridge connecting the landmasses between RED and BLU, while a shorter, more stooped man with a hardhat took the other side. The Engineer on both teams was brilliant. They both could create sentry guns to protect their bases, and they were downright good all around. Defense was their main forte, but if it came down to it, they had a shotgun to use as a backup offense weapon.

Along with those three at the bridge, only one other man was visible from the arena stands. Well, sort of. His gun, at least. Up on the second floor of the BLU base, boards covered a broken window. Protruding out between two of the boards was the narrow tube of a sniper rifle.

"_Mission begins in 30 seconds_."

Man, I can't decide who I like more. The Soldier is pretty cool as well as these other guys. Not to mention the Spy. Or the Demoman. Everyone is so different and so essential to the team...it's a very unique balance.

"_Mission begins in 20 seconds_."

"Come on, come on, hurry up!" I muttered to myself. I wanted to see some action.

As the jumbotrons counted down, the audience gathered in the Arena began chanting the numbers out loud. The entire place was filled with energy that rivaled New Year's Eve as the countdown dawdled into the single-digits.

"FIVE…!" I shouted out.

"_FOUR…!"_

I found myself hoping the BLUs would win this round.

"_THREE_…!"

The jumbotron on the left focused on the Medic and Heavy, who both bore expressions of distinct fear and worry.

"_TWO_…!"

The sniper barrel that was just barely visible to the Arena was trembling slightly.

"_ONE_…!"

A loud whistle that reminded me of a train sounded, echoing around the Arena and drowning out the shouts and cheers of the crowd. Already, people were on their feet and screaming. The BLUs rushed across the bridge and entered the RED base. Surprisingly, not a single RED showed himself…

The cameras were following the Medic and Heavy as they hurried into the fort, the Medic constantly glancing back at the camera, as though knowing it was there. I found myself tense with anticipation…the RED Spy was known for quickly taking out the Medics as soon as possible. Who knows, the BLU medicine man could be the first to go.

Again.

"Where are they?" the Heavy was asking. His face was lined with fear. "Why are they not attacking us?"

"They're further in the base. Just keep moving!" the Medic insisted.

"DON'T GO!" A man in front of me was shouting at the screens. "IT'S A TRAP! IT'S A TRAP, YOU GREAT LUG!"

I couldn't help but agree and join in shouting. I knew they couldn't hear us, but it was still half the thrill of knowing what was to come.

The Heavy nodded to the Medic and continued on. They had reached the section of the fort that opened up into the sky. Bales of hay were stacked in three of the four corners, ladders leading up to the upper floors and toward the Intelligence.

This is where things began to get interesting.

From the balcony fell a swirl of crimson as the RED Scout threw himself at the Medic, throwing the MediGun's beam off the Heavy. The Scout drew an aluminum baseball bat from the bag strung across his back and delivered a hard blow to the Medic's temple.

The crowd in the Arena erupted in cheers and boos. I found myself cursing at the Scout as he struck the already downed Medic again, caving in part of his skull. The Heavy finally realized what was going on and began firing his own weapon at the Scout.

My jeers turned to excited shouts as bullet after bullet pierced the Scout's red shirt, his blood staining it even darker. The Heavy didn't stop shooting. His face was twisted in rage and anger as the metal slugs punched through the lightweight Scout, disfiguring and tearing apart his head and shoulders.

The heavy weapon wound down with a low hum as the Scout fell, motionless, next to the Medic.

Two deaths so far…this was going to be an intense battle. I could already feel it.

"_Five minutes remain!_" the announcer declared. "_Get the briefcase!_"

The Heavy turned and ran in the direction of the RED Intelligence, ditching the minigun as he went. I frowned. Sure, the extra weight was slowing him down, but it was a fricken' gun! It was just about the only protection he had, save for a puny shotgun hung over his shoulder.

I sighed. The dumbass wouldn't make it out alive.

The jumbotron on the right had switched. Now the BLU Demoman was making his way across the Teufort bridge. As I watched, wondering why he didn't bother to stickyjump his way into the fortress, the RED Sniper appeared at the doorway the Demoman intended to use.

The shouts and screams in the Arena were deafening as people jumped up and pointed feverously, wondering why the Demoman was walking directly into the trap. The RED Sniper grinned nastily and traded his rifle out for the SMG he had at his waist. Just as he was about to shoot, his head jerked backwards, tiny red droplets falling from his hat as it drifted to the ground. The Sniper fell, eyes crossed up at the pencil-sized hole in the middle of his forehead.

"YEAH!" I shouted. The BLU Sniper had successfully ridded RED of his counterpart. I could see him in the boarded up window, packing up to move to a different location.

"_Four minutes remain!_"

I turned my attention back to the left jumbotron. The Heavy had nearly made it to the Intelligence. Only a short, curved hallway stood between him and the prize. I assumed he was waiting for backup.

The Demoman had found the bodies of the BLU Medic and the RED Scout. He steered clear of them and continued on his way. I laughed. What a moron.

He managed to reach the Heavy, who sighed in relief. "You made it. Now, hurry…there's an Engineer just around the corner."

The Demoman nodded. "Right. Don't worry."

The Heavy turned and peered around the corner. "If we run at the same time, we should be able to—"

He never got to finish as the Demoman discarded the grenade launcher and instead pulled a knife from his sleeve, swiftly and expertly plunging it into the Heavy's back. The Heavy dropped to his knees as the BLU Demoman's form wavered and vanished to be replaced by the RED Spy.

I was on my feet now, clapping and cheering. Even though I wasn't cheering for the REDs, that was an excellent move. I could only wonder what happened to the real Demoman.

The Heavy had fallen into the hallway. The camera centered itself to focus on both him and the end of the hall. The RED Intelligence was visible, as was their Engineer and his Level 3 Sentry. The contraption caught sight of the dying BLU and unleashed a barrage of bullets that tore away the Heavy's life. The RED Spy stepped over him and lit a cigarette.

"Great work, partner." The Engineer grinned.

"_One minute remains! Get that briefcase!_"

"Come on!" I shouted. "Come on, BLU!"

The Spy only sighed and took deep breath of the smoke he was inhaling before cloaking, flicking the drug away. Invisible, I couldn't tell where he ran off to.

The Engineer stood at attention, wrench in hand.

"_30 seconds remain!_"

A flurry of movement started at the BLU base. It was too late for them, and they knew it. The remaining survivors rushed to the bridge and from there, into the RED base.

They were met by RED's Pyro, who airblasted the BLU Soldier's rockets back at them.

"_10 seconds remain!_"

It was too late. A vast majority of the team had been too badly wounded. This was going to be bad...

The overwhelming boos and cheers filled the Arena once again as the Announcer declared a game over. The RED Pyro put an end to any of the BLUs that happened to still be alive.

"That sucked." I grumbled, sitting back down in my seat. It would be a while before I managed to get out of here.

**XxXxXxXx**

It was pitch-black by the time I exited the Arena stands. The flickering streetlamps lit the way as I walked home, still disappointed by the Games. That wasn't a match, it was a _slaughter_! I want my money back!

A clatter down an alleyway made me stop momentarily. I silently cursed myself for drinking too many sodas and being so jittery and continued on.

The clatter sounded again down the next alley I passed. This time I glared into the darkness and balled my hands into fists.

"Go away." I said.

A trash can was knocked over. I managed to see some light-coloured pieces of paper flutter to the ground. I could hear something else…someone else…

"Who's there?"

A siren started a few streets over. It grew closer until the flashing lights illuminated the darkened alleyway.

"FREEZE!" a voice magnified by a megaphone shouted.

A man was standing amidst the scattered trash that had been knocked over, dressed in a long overcoat. He looked to be as tall as me, if not a bit taller. I never clearly saw his face as he turned and ran back the way he had come. The police were after this guy…but what for?

I followed.

If there was one thing I was good at, it was running. Being the youngest of eight brothers, I had taught myself to run from their bullying and get to safety as fast as I could. I was confident in my speed. I would catch this criminal.

The man turned the corner and continued running in-between the buildings, tossing trash cans and dumpsters behind him to slow my progress after him. I simply jumped, the obstacles only making this chase more intense. He turned down the first alley I heard the clattering sounds in, overturning a large dumpster into my path. This guy was strong.

I made to jump over it, but my right foot got lodged on the lid. I fell, sliding over the top of it and dragging the lid off. Something heavy and cold fell on top of me, the lid crashing to the ground to the left.

"Ow! Freaking…!" I started, trying to roll to the side to dislodge the trash from my back. In the dim light, I made out part of the shape of the thing on top of me.

A hand.

There was a hand sticking out in front of me, the fingers frozen in a pained position.

I screamed, backpedaling into the building and dislodging the dead body from my back. I never knew death could be so cold and…and rigid…

A light shone into the alleyway, illuminating the face of the dead.

It was a woman. That was all I registered at first. A rather plump woman wearing an outrageous orange and yellow dress.

Wait.

This…

This was…

My supervisor…! The lady I worked for!

But why had she been killed?!

"_FREEZE!_" the cop with the megaphone shouted again. "_OR WE WON'T HESITATE TO SHOOT!_"

I glanced wildly around as I shakily stood, searching for the man in the trench coat. He was nowhere in sight…maybe they caught sight of him again and were warning—

A bullet struck the bricks just to the right of my head. My knees gave out at the sudden fright and I slumped back to the ground. Me? Why were they shooting at _me_?! I didn't kill this woman!

Two cops were heading in my direction now, pistols directed at me. I was stunned. I didn't kill this woman! There was no way I could! The guy in the trench coat…he did it!

"You're coming with us." One of them said, grabbing ahold of my arm and pulling me roughly to my feet. Even though my legs were like rubber, I somehow managed to follow the two men back to the car.

**XxXxXxXx**

The prison was set into the far corner of the city, next to the West Wall. Looking out the window, I could see the solid concrete structure jutting up into the sky, obscuring anything and everything beyond its walls.

My wrists were handcuffed to the chair I was sitting in, facing a rather thin-faced man with a goatee. He said he was an 'interrogator' and wanted to know 'why I killed that woman'.

"I didn't kill her." I insisted for the tenth time. "You gotta believe me. There was dis man, see? An' he was makin' noise in the alley. I followed him."

"Right." The man said flatly. "She was your employer, was she not? Did you harbor any sort of…grudge…against her?"

"What? No! She paid me good! Why would I wanna kill her?"

"Did she favour another employee over you?"

"No!"

"What about your friends? Your family? Did they have any sort of connection to her? Were you doing them a favour by wiping her off the face of the earth?"

"No! I'm tellin' ya, no!"

"You said there was another man?" the interrogator sighed.

"Yeah. Real skinny guy." I tried to gesture, but the handcuffs restricted my movement. "Kinda shady. Tall. I didn't see his face real good."

"Anything else?"

"He was strong. Kept knocking things in my way so he could escape."

"Did you actually see this man kill the woman?"

"No."

"Anything else you would like to add? About the woman?"

"…No."

We were both silent for a few seconds. The man sighed and folded his hands before staring long and hard at me. I squirmed in my seat, slightly uncomfortable by the way he was boring holes into my soul.

"My sources say you are not the legal employment age."

My stomach turned twice in my gut. How the hell did he know about that?! Ma and I worked so hard to cover that all up!

My shock must have been written clearly on my face. The interrogator continued, "You are at least two years under the required age. This is a serious criminal act of forging and creation of false data. Even if you are not tried for the murder of your employer, you will be tried for your forged birth certificate."

"What? No, man! You don't understand!" I protested.

"I understand you broke a very clear law one way or another." The man stood.

"Can I speak to my Ma?"

"We will resume this conversation in the morning. Until then, you will be transported to the detention center to be held overnight."

"Can I speak to my Ma?" I repeated.

The man didn't respond and instead walked out of the room, leaving me still trapped in the chair and facing the empty table. The room suddenly felt as cold as the snow-coloured walls. Cold and empty.

**XxXxXxXx**

_**DETENTION CENTER**_

"Tell me again about the man…the one that killed your supervisor."

"For th' last time, he was wearin' a trench coat!" I sighed and pinched at the bridge of my nose. "That was all I really saw!"

The policewoman sitting opposite me wrote something down on the clipboard she was holding. She nodded, as though I had actually said something interesting, and asked instead, "What was your alibi for last night?"

"My what?" I blinked.

"Your alibi." She frowned. "What were you doing when you stumbled upon this dead woman?"

"I was walkin' home from the Games." I said. "I told th' guy yesterday. Don't ya ever listen to each other around here?"

"Alright, then…tell me about that forged birth certificate." The policewoman glared and set the clipboard down. "Who set it up?"

"I dunno." I shrugged. "They're probably long gone by now. Ma said she didn't want me knowin' who did it. Why do we need to be twenty five to get a job, anyway?"

I suppose my abruptness took her by surprise. Her 'in charge' attitude suddenly dropped away and she picked up the clipboard again, nervously fiddling with the piece of paper attached. Her voice shuddered as she spoke. "I…Well…It's the way it's always been."

I gave her a skeptical look.

She stood and exited the room, leaving me to my thoughts. I turned to stare out the barred window. After all, I had an excellent view of the concrete wall. Better enjoy it while I could.

A knock so hard it sounded like a barrage of gunshots sounded at the door. I jumped and stuttered out, "Uh…yeah?"

The door was thrown open with a bang, the momentum throwing it back into a semi closed position. A dent remained in the wall where the doorknob had struck. A tall man wearing nothing but a pair of hiking shorts, shoes, and a hat strode into the room after pushing the doorknob back into the wall. This time, it stuck.

"So you're Miles?" he had a deep, booming voice and a surprisingly sincere smile that reached past his bushy moustache. He held out a hand. "I'm Hale. Saxton Hale! Provider and biggest fan of the Games!"

He must have been twice my height and more than ten times my weight. I hesitated before reaching out to accept his handshake—his hand alone was large enough to wrap around my entire head and rip it from my shoulders.

"Hi…" I said lamely as his fingers wrapped around my hand. I heard something crunch and my eye twitched. Unfortunately, Hale didn't seem to realize he was crushing my tiny hand as he vigorously shook my arm from my socket.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, my boy! I must say, I've heard a lot about you! Murdering that poor woman…that takes some guts, kid!"

"I…I didn't kill her…!" I grit my teeth and pulled away from his handshake.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to hear me. Or care. Maybe both. Instead, he put both hands on his hips and said quite firmly, "You know what this means, right? With the killing _and _the forged certificate?"

"No…?"

"You have a choice, my boy!" The smile was back on his face and he pulled a crinkled piece of paper from his pocket. "I'll let you read it yourself."

He tossed the paper to me. I unfolded it.

It was a crudely written letter, obviously by Hale himself. It simply said:

**CHOOSE ONE:**

**THE GAMES**

_**OR**_

**LIFE IN PRISON**

"Whaa…?" I blinked.

"Are you as daft as the others?" Hale cracked his knuckles. "You have a choice for your crimes. You get to decide your destiny! And after all, we need some new BLU recruits after that last slaughter—I mean, Game!"

I hesitated. "Do I have to decide right now?"

"Of course!"

"Can I talk to my Ma first?"

"No can do!"

I stared back at the paper I was holding. On one hand, I could be a celebrity. I could actually be in the Games! I could be starring in the very thing I loved since I was a kid. But that always brought the risk of losing. I was competitive. I always wanted to win.

And on the other hand, I could rot in prison until the end of time.

It was a no-brainer.

"Have you decided?" Hale asked.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Yes…?"

"I choose the Games."

His grin grew wider. "Wise choice."

**XxXxXxXx**

**The whole team will be introduced soon! This is just the set-up phase of the story leading up to other stuff. **

**Remember to review!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28**


	2. Chapter 2

**XxXxXxXx**

**CHAPTER 2**

**XxXxXxXx**

**Hey, look at that. I finally got around to posting chapter two! It's only been…what, like 2 months? Incredible. **

**I've been really caught up with a lot of crap…but I haven't abandoned this story. I will complete it!**

**XxXxXxXx**

"Miles…"

"Ma, this is good! As long as I'm in th' Games, and as long as we win, you'll be gettin' a lot of cash!"

I didn't understand why Ma was acting this way. The way I see it, she would be set for life if I won just one game! I wouldn't have to worry about her anymore, at least from a financial standpoint.

"Have you _considered_ this?" her eyes were red and still glistening with tears.

"Ma, I already agreed to it."

She buried her face in her hands and wept, the blue headband in her hair shaking itself loose from her head with the force of her sobs. I wanted to reach through the glass that separated us and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Ma…Ma, it'll be alright."

"IT WON'T BE ALRIGHT!" she shouted. "YOU'LL BE KILLED TOO!"

The guard at my right tapped the back of my neck with his pistol. "Get goin'." He muttered.

"Ma, no! I won't let that happen!" I protested as the guard grabbed ahold of my arm and roughly tugged me back toward the exit.

That was the last I saw of her. The door was pulled shut and I was spun around to face the guard that had so very gently ushered me out of the room.

"We're going to the Arena." He simply said.

I had no choice but to follow him. The walls of the city loomed over us as we made our way toward the large stadium; dark grey clouds somehow managing to hang above the concrete fixtures. It seemed like the walk lasted forever.

Instead of entering into the usual entrance, the guard brought me toward what looked like an old mine shaft. It was unstable looking, but it managed to jitter and shake its way down into the depths of the Arena.

We were now facing into a rather luxurious room. A leather couch was pulled up against the far wall, a tall green plant next to it. A small coffee table sat nearby the foot of the couch, perfect for setting your feet on.

"Wait here." The guard said. He headed back to the elevator and vanished upward in a tornado of clicks and clacks of the rusty bolts and engines.

I took a seat at the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table.

I suppose I must have dozed off, because before I knew it, I was being shaken awake.

"Miles…? You're Miles, right?"

I blinked. "Yeah. Dat's me."

Sitting next to me was the prettiest girl I had ever seen. She was wearing a purple button-down shirt, the collar and buttons highlighted white. Her dark hair was pinned back, but it still managed to somehow fall into her face and obstruct her view from her black cat-eye glasses. Everything about her matched…the shade of her skirt matched her formal shoes and the purple brought an aura of intelligence to her aqua eyes.

"Wow." I muttered.

"You're assigned to BLU Team." The girl said, completely ignoring my comment. "And it said in your file that you're fast…"

"I can go slow." I blurted.

The girl blinked. "Perhaps I should have worded that better…"

"What's your name?"

"Anyway!" she cleared her throat and brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "You're assigned to BLU Team as their Scout. If anyone asks, that's your name now. Scout. Don't tell them your real one."

"Why not?"

"Policy rules." She said.

"Well, do you have a name I can call ya by?" I asked.

She hesitated again. "Pauling. Ms. Pauling."

"Ok, Ms. P-Pauling." I stuttered. "You're…really—"

"Do you know the regulations?" She interrupted. "About winning…the cash bonuses…how it's all divided?"

"Yeah. We win, we get cash. We decide what to do with it. I'm gonna be sendin' most of it to my Ma." I said. "Anyway, you're really—"

"I have to go! Go and meet the team!" She stood up abruptly and headed for the elevator.

"Wait! Can I…Can I get your number?"

"No!" She walked even faster and began pressing the up arrow on the elevator a thousand times a second. "Goodbye, Scout! I hope you last the night!"

The elevator lifted up, carrying her out of sight.

"Oh, man…" I breathed. "What a babe…"

I turned back around to head back to the couch, but stopped short. A door was now on the left wall of the room. It hadn't been there before, had it?

Curiosity got the best of me and I tried the handle. The door opened without a squeak into a long, dimly lit hallway.

"What th' heck…?" I muttered to myself. I began walking, slightly unnerved by the silence that followed my footsteps.

The tunnel led deep into the Arena, taking bizarre twists and turns and randomly going up or down a level. After a few minutes of aimless walking, I reached another door. This one was poorly constructed, lights filtering through holes punched into it and around the seams of the wood. I didn't even have to turn the handle to open it. I just pushed it open.

"Well, look. The ninth and final member of the new team is finally here."

I jumped and spun to the left, where a long desk was sitting pushed up against the wall. A faint blue 'B' was emblazed onto it, bearing the BLU Team's logo. A dark-skinned man wearing faded overalls, a blue shirt and a yellow hardhat sat behind the desk, arms resting on an oversized navy briefcase.

"Uh, yo." I gave a nervous wave. "I'm…Scout."

"I can tell." The man nodded. "I'm Engineer. Nice to meet you, Scout."

I shook hands with him as I glanced around the Intelligence room. "This is pretty freakin' awesome." I said. "Where are the others?"

"Off doing their own things." Engineer said. "And if I were you, I'd leave them alone. They're a nasty bunch."

"Why?"

"The prison didn't give them a choice to come here or not. They were sent here for one reason and one reason only." Engineer lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard. "They were sent here to die. Be it by their own hands or RED's. You and me…I think we were the only ones here that volunteered. I regret my decision already."

"Why? Did you meet them?" I asked stupidly.

"Oh, yes." Engineer nodded. "They're a bunch of psychos. Medic especially. And sooner or later, you're gonna have to go to him to have the überheart transplant."

"What?" I flinched at the word 'transplant'.

"How do you think the MediGun works? It needs something to catch ahold of. Something machine. When it latches onto the machine inside us, it emits these microwaves, see. These speed up the healing process as long as there's living tissue among the dead." Engineer sat back in the chair. "We Engineers and Medics tend to work together on these kinds of things."

I gulped. "I…I think I'll pass on th' heart transplant thing."

"You don't have a choice, son."

"Where…uh…where's my room?" I changed the subject.

"It's up a floor. It's the only one not yet claimed of the three offence dorms set up nearby the staircase over there." Engineer motioned in the general direction. "You'll find your Scout uniform and weapons. If I were you, I'd carry that baseball bat around with me at all times. At least."

I nodded and gave him a nervous smile. "Thanks, man."

"You're welcome." He responded.

I walked off in the direction he pointed. A staircase led up and I followed it to a sealed-in hallway. A few doors lined it every now and then as it turned a corner, and I eventually stumbled upon a group of three doors, two of which had nameplates of paper that bore the names of the Soldier and Pyro. The only one unclaimed was the furthest of the three.

I pushed the door open to my new room.

A small, neatly made bed was pushed against the furthest corner, a chest of drawers at the foot of it. A large wooden chest was the only other piece of furniture. I stepped into the room and shut the door, flicking on the light.

I found a hat, socks, a belt, shoes, a blue shirt, and a headset in the chest of drawers. After changing, I opened the wooden chest. Inside was a metal baseball bat set inside a leather holder, a pistol in a holster, and a scattergun. I slung the baseball bat and the leather pack-like holder over my back and clipped the pistol's holster to my belt.

There. I was officially a scout. I couldn't help but feel incredibly honoured.

I found a piece of paper, a roll of tape and a pen sitting on the bedsheets. I quickly scribbled my new name and posted the note on the outside of my door.

I was now one of the BLUs.

**XxXxXxXx**

I wandered from my new room to the main entryway, which was surprisingly bare. A few discarded and ruined weapons lay in a few of the corners, but nothing particularly stuck out at me. The walls were peeling and in need of a new coat of light blue paint. The once-polished wooden floor was marked, scuffed and burned.

I followed the spacious entrance to an unmarked door and pushed it open. Shelves were stacked inside full of crates, all holding a vast amount of food. I grabbed a couple of apples and continued on with my grand tour.

"Hello again, Scout."

I nearly choked on the fruit I was eating and spun around, clumsily reaching for my baseball bat. Engineer's lips twisted into a grin, saying, "You don't have to worry, boy. I take it you're getting to know the place?"

"Yeah." I responded.

"You should familiarize yourself with the lower level first," Engineer said, "and get to know every nook and cranny a RED can hide behind as they try to steal our Intel. They can be a nasty bunch, from what I've seen. Nasty and clever."

I nodded. "Where's everyone else?"

"They're all down in the rec room." Engineer motioned off in the general direction of the rest of the team. "Consider yourself lucky. You get some time to yourself."

"I want to meet 'em." I said.

"All in good time." Engineer turned and headed to the only door on the west wall. "I'm going to work on some sentry blueprints. Don't get into too much trouble, now."

He walked out of sight.

I found myself walking back to the Intelligence room. The space itself was very cleverly crafted; two additional walls jutted from the right and left ones. It was impossible to look directly into the room and spot the briefcase. You had to weave your way into the room, and most likely into a trap.

"Scout?"

I turned around to find Engineer once again. "Hey, Engie, I thought you went back to work on th' sentry."

Engineer shook his head and chuckled. I thought I caught the scent of smoke. "You're right, boy. He did."

"Wha…?"

"You'll have to learn quickly if you want to stay alive."

A shimmer just above Engineer's hand caught my eye. I knew what that meant…

"You're…you're a Spy!" I accused, fumbling at my pistol's handle.

The shimmer intensified, spreading across the phony Engineer's body. His features were distorted, as though he was enveloped in water. It only took a few seconds for him to shift from the disguise to his real form.

The BLU Spy casually flicked through his cigarette holster, discarding tiny pieces of ash. "Usually I take on the form of a newcomer's friend…I kill them before they realize it was done by my hand."

He glared at me with cold, slanted eyes. "Unfortunately, I was forbidden to remove you from the team. For now, anyway."

"Whaddya want?" I asked, my gun clenched in my right hand.

"I'm here to pass on a message." Spy grinned. "From the Medic."

"What is it?"

"He wants you to report to his lab. You're the only one that hasn't undergone the überheart transplant, after all."

I gulped, worryingly recalling what Engineer had said about Medic being a madman. "R…right."

"If you report now, maybe he'll give you enough medication to deaden the pain." Spy put an unlit cigarette between his teeth and snapped the holster shut. "Until next time, Scout." He added in gibberish, "_Zhù hăo yùn_."

In a puff of smoke not originating from the cigarette, he vanished.

_Maybe_ he'll give me enough medication? _Maybe!_? I shuddered.

I remained in the Intelligence room for a few seconds, staring blankly at the wall. Where was Medic's lab, anyway? I barely knew the layout of this place…

I headed up the only flight of stairs and back onto the main floor. There were a fair number of doors around this place…

"_Hola! Usted debe ser Scout_!"

I turned toward the nearest door. A tall man was standing there, dressed in a long white lab coat. He had a darker complexion with short, curly black hair and a glint in his rich eyes. He continued with the strange way of speaking.

"_Soy Medic. Bienvenido a nuestra base de humilde._" He leaned into a deep bow.

"…What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"English is not my first language." Medic stood straight again. "I apologize for any misunderstandings."

He seemed friendly enough. I shook my head. "Nah, it's great."

"_Gracias._"

"Why do ya speak like that, anyway? I've never heard anyone talk like that." I asked.

Medic laughed. "That is a story for another time. Come. I must prepare you for war." He turned and headed to a door on the left.

"No, really. What did you even say?" I asked, following.

"My language is Spanish. _Español_. They do not speak it inside the walls."

"Wait!" I stopped following him. "You came from outside th' walls? How did ya do that?!"

Medic opened the door and motioned for me to follow him. "I will explain later."

We stepped foot into a blindingly clean room. Glass shelves were sparkling on almost every wall of the place, all holding an assortment of medicines and tools. In the middle of the room was what appeared to be an examination table slanted slightly upward at one end. A strange gun hung from the ceiling, pointing directly in the center of it.

"Have a seat, _por favor_." Medic motioned to the examination table.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Please." He repeated in English. "Perhaps I shall teach you some of my language later, _sí_? _Es decir, si vives lo suficiente…_"

I sat on the edge of it, my feet dangling in the air. The harsh lights that illuminated the place were beginning to make my head hurt. A faint, sharp smell of chemicals was also in the air. It felt like it was drying my lungs out.

Medic was pulling on a pair of blue gloves at the far corner of the room. He had an already prepared syringe sitting on a small table beside him. He picked it up and tapped it, getting rid of any air bubbles that may be trapped inside.

"Will this…you know…hurt?" I asked. In all my years of living in the walls of the city, the only thing that really made me queasy was needles.

"No, not at all." Medic grinned again, but it wasn't the friendly, vacant look from earlier. "Now please, hold still. _Lo peor está por venire_."

He held out my left arm and stuck the needle into the crook of my elbow, injecting everything in the syringe into my vein.

"Ow," I hissed. "What's that supposed to do?"

"That was a paralytic." Medic discarded the syringe and his gloves into a biohazard bag. "It will keep you still."

"So it'll knock me out?" My tense muscles began to relax, yet I didn't feel the least bit tired.

"No. Unfortunately, I used the last of the anesthetics on Sniper."

My heart began to race. "Oh, God…" I gulped. "So…I'll be…"

"Awake? Yes." His friendly grin was completely gone now, replaced with something sinister and twisted.

"No…! No, I can live without th' überheart transplant! Let me out!" I pushed myself off the table.

My legs buckled and I fell to the floor. I couldn't move anything below my knee. My arms felt heavy and it was getting difficult to keep my head up. "No…!" I spat out. "No! Let me…go…!" Forming words was as difficult as walking.

Medic sighed and grabbed my arm, hauling me back onto the table with strength I didn't know he had. He took my pistol and baseball bat, discarding them into the corner. I could only control my eyes now, but they were locked on Medic as he strapped my ankles to the table with Velcro restraints. He did the same to my wrists, saying, "I can never be too careful. Why, just the other day…Heavy managed to fight off the drug and take a swing at me. I blame it on myself, of course. I misjudged the dose to give him."

He adjusted the lights above the table, centering them on my chest. I could feel my heart pounding. Was this how I was going to die? I regretted ever joining the Games…

Retrieving a pair of thick blue rubber gloves, Medic quickly put them on and chose some items from a glass cabinet just out of my sight. I could hear the clatter of metal on glass. It only fueled my horror. I tried to move my arm…my toes…anything! I had to get out of here!"

"Mmmmf!" I managed to say. I had control over my eyes and voice. That was it.

"You sound like _el_ Pyro." Medic chuckled. "But unlike you, he was excited for the transplant."

He stepped back into my line of sight, carrying an armload of supplies. He lined them up on the small table and pushed it up beside me. I saw a large saw and various other threatening looking tools.

"Are you ready?" the mad sparkle in his eyes was almost as scary as the pair of scissors he was holding, snipping at the air with a sharp _shik shik_.

"_MMFF_!"

"Before I joined the Games, I performed _la autopsias_. Autopsies." Medic's voice took a low, crazed pitch to it. "But they were not enough to satisfy my hunger for knowledge. I wanted to know more. I started cutting up live ones…"

He slipped one arm of the scissors under my collar and started cutting my shirt away. The metal was freezing cold against my chest.

"But my country did not like that. They did not like what I was doing for science. They sent me here…to participate in the Games. They told me I could do whatever I wanted as long as my own teammates do not fall in battle."

My new shirt now cut down the middle, he discarded the scissors and reached instead for a scalpel that looked more like a saw. He made sure I got a good look at it.

"First, I am going to cut through your skin with this. Then I will retrieve a bonesaw to cut through your sternum." He reached up toward the strange gun-looking thing above me and switched something on. A beam of light blue light targeted the sides of the operating table.

"The MediGun is focusing on the metal of the table. It then jumps to the closest organic thing, which is you. This is how I keep my…patients…from dying whilst under the knife."

He pressed the blade to the left side of my collarbone, just before my shoulder. The cold metal made me shiver. Medic's grin grew even wider as he put pressure on the scalpel, driving it into my skin. Pain didn't register until he guided the scalpel deeper into my muscles, hitting my rib. He dragged the knife through my skin down to the end of my breastbone, creating a diagonal, bloody line across my body. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling tears escape them.

"The body truly is amazing, is it not?" Medic withdrew the scalpel from my skin and plunged it back in my right shoulder, drawing another red line across my chest. Both lines connected at the end of my sternum. "It can handle so much pain at one time."

"_MMFF_!" I attempted to scream.

"This is my favourite part." Medic laughed, holding the scalpel sideways. He began digging into the tip of the bloody, upside-down triangle he had drawn on my chest, separating my skin from my bones. He cut it away expertly, tearing the entire slab of flesh off my body. He dropped it onto the pristine floor.

All I saw was red. All I felt was blinding, intense pain that matched the harsh lights of the lab. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and my blood dripping off the side of the table. My vision began to go fuzzy.

"Oh, you can not pass out yet." Medic chided as though he was scolding a young child. "Not until the fun begins."

I was brought back to my senses as a terrible grinding feeling reverberated through my ribs. I squinted in the harsh light, tears blurring my vision, watching as Medic brutally hacked his way through my ribcage. My sternum split in two and he pried it open even further, bringing an unimaginable agony burning through my body. I could feel him hacking at my organs.

I tried to scream again, but my voice cracked and faltered. My entire body felt cold…I was shuddering in the Velcro restraints. I was losing an incredible amount of body heat.

Medic either didn't notice or didn't care. It was hard to breathe as he took the bonesaw he was holding and crowded out my lungs, cutting at my arteries and veins.

Just as my eyes were rolling back into my head, he held out something so I could see it. Something red and pulsating.

I welcomed unconsciousness with open arms.

**XxXxXxXx**

…

…

…

"Doc, you didn't put him under? What were you thinking?!"

"I believe the important thing is he has had the transplant."

"He's just a boy!"

I didn't want to move. Every inch of my body hurt and my chest felt incredibly restricted. I was breathing very shallowly and quickly.

"I did him a favour as well. I removed a probable tumor on his liver."

"I don't give a damn about what you _did_! I give a damn about what you _didn't do_!"

I tried to open my eyes. I was lying on my back in a rather uncomfortable bed, staring up directly at a light. I blinked hard and let out a groan.

"He is awake!" Medic excitedly said somewhere from my right.

Panic flared through my system and I tried to sit up. A lightning bolt of pain shot up my body and lodged itself in my head, dropping me back to the pillows. I could finally move again. I let out a pained scream.

"Don't move boy. You'll only make it worse." A hand landed on my shoulder. "Just take it easy."

I squinted up at Engineer, gritting my teeth together. "Wh…h…!" I managed to sputter out. My heart was making bizarre sounds in my chest. _Thunk-thump. Thunk-thump. Thunk-thump_…

"You're in the sick bay, son. You're gonna have to stay here for another few days." Engineer said. "The procedure was successful."

I was suddenly aware I was shivering. My teeth were clattering together almost painfully, adding to my misery.

"Doc, have a heart and let the boy sleep!" Engineer shouted. "He'll die at this rate!"

"Fine," Medic said, "fine. If you will get out of my sick bay, then _sí_."

Engineer took his hand from my shoulder. I shivered again at the sudden loss of heat, stammering out, "C…c-cold…"

Something tiny pierced my arm and darkness overtook my vision for the second time that day.

**XxXxXxXx**

I actually dreamed while I slept.

_I dreamed I was back home, with Ma. We were together in the living room, but she was staring at something in her hand. I was standing in the doorway. As I drew closer to her, I realized it was a photograph. A photograph of her and another man…_

"_Who's that?" I asked._

_She quickly tucked the photo out of sight. "No one."_

"_Ma…"_

_She was never good at keeping secrets. She sighed. "That was your father." _

"_My dad?"_

"_Yes." _

"_But…You told me he died…"_

"_He did."_

"_Do you know why?"_

"_No. But another round of the Games starts in two days. Do you think he'll be ready?"_

"_What? Ma?"_

"_He's got to wake up soon." Ma said. "That's the first step."_

My eyes shot open.

The sick bay's ceiling was dark now and the entire room was cast into shadows. I didn't move, thinking someone was nearby.

"I mean, if he doesn't wake up, then we're one teammate short." A deep, husky voice was saying.

"I hear ya." Said another.

"And Scouts are the fastest. We really need the little guy."

"He's taller than me."

"He's smaller than me, therefore, he is little."

"Then what am I?"

"You're a little guy too."

There was the sound of metal striking metal. The owner of the husky voice muttered, "Ouch!"

"I can beat your sorry ass anyday, fatass."

I took a deep breath. The restriction on my chest wasn't as severe now. I grit my teeth, expecting pain, and slowly propped myself up on my elbows. Surprisingly, only a dull ache remained.

"Hey, look! He lives!"

I glanced to my left. Two beds away from me were two other men, both of them looking incredibly bored and slightly tired. One was donned in the typical BLU Heavy Weapon vest, the other in a standard BLU Soldier uniform, complete with the helmet. I couldn't make out their features in the dim light.

"Hello, Scout!" Heavy waved. "It's good you're alive!"

"Uh…yeah…" my voice wavered. "H-hello…"

"You've been sleeping for most of today." Soldier said. "I got the über transplant yesterday, and I'm leaving tomorrow. You're gonna have to stay for three days, tops."

"Three days?" I sighed. I took a cautious deep breath and put a hand to my chest, which was wrapped with bandages. Despite the pressure I put over where I had lost a good chunk of my flesh, it didn't hurt very much.

"Why am I not fully healed?" I asked.

"The power here to the lab is…limited." Soldier said. "Medic can only heal so much of you with so little power."

"It's _limited_?!"

"Like his other supplies."

"Medic is a good man. He means well." Heavy interjected. "He gave us the transplant, anyway. It'll help keep us alive."

"I'd rather be dead." I shuddered. "Did…did he put ya under when he…you know…carved ya up?"

"I can tolerate pain." Heavy growled. "I was raised on it."

I tugged on one of the bandages. "When's the next Game?"

"Two days." Soldier said. "You might have to sit it out."

"For now, we should rest." Heavy added. "It is late and I am tired. It was nice meeting you, Scout."

He turned over onto his side, facing the far wall. Soldier nodded and tossed his helmet to his bedside table. "Good night, Scout."

Even after they fell asleep, I still sat, staring at the only door in the room. For some reason, I was terrified that if I fell back asleep, I would dream of the über transplant again.

I shuddered.

**XxXxXxXx**

**I really hope the Spanish and the Chinese I used translate correctly. If one of you is more fluent in either language than I am, please correct me. I took 2 years of Spanish in high school and that's the extent of my foreign languages. **

**So…Scout is one of the BLUs now. I wonder what the REDs are like?**

**Remember to Review!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28s**


	3. Chapter 3

**XxXxXxXx**

**CHAPTER 3**

**XxXxXxXx**

**This seems a bit shorter than I wanted, but whatever…**

**I'm sorry I have really sporatic upload dates, I actually have up to like chapter 10 done and written out, I just need to find time to edit and upload. I'm really short on free time right now due to college crap and school stuff and my job, but I'm doing the best I can. So try and enjoy what I manage to churn out…**

**XxXxXxXx**

"Scout, put the pistol down."

"No! You're not comin' near me! No way, ya freak!"

My arms shook, but I held the pistol steady as Medic held up his arms in a surrender position, various bandaging supplies in his hands. "_Fina_. You will not heal right and I will have to do the whole thing all over again."

"What are ya gonna do?" I asked.

"I am going to get rid of those bulky bandages."

"That's it?"

"_Sí_."

"Fine. But I'm keepin' the pistol with me." I lowered it to my side. "Hurry."

Medic cut away the bandages that circled my chest, revealing the ugly upside-down triangle scar that spanned most of my front. For the most part, new skin had already grown across the worst of it. A few still slightly bleeding incisions were scattered around the mostly healed wound as well.

"For the most part, you are healed. But I do not want to take risks." Medic said, beginning to unwrap another roll of gauze. "You will stay here for the first match."

"What? No! Taking risks?! Are you fricken' _serious_?! After th' crap you pulled with the überheart transplant?!" I exclaimed. "I'm goin' to fight!"

"Then you will be killed." Medic bluntly stated, fixing the gauze in place with some bandages. "I hate it when my subjects die."

"Subjects?! Is that all we are to you?!" I pressed the pistol to his head. "I could…I _should._...kill you right now!"

"And if you do that, who will be here to keep the team from falling apart at the seams?" Medic asked. He fixed the last bandage in place. "It'll be on such short notice once again. Do you want the BLU team to be slaughtered? Do _you_ want to be slaughtered? Killing me is like committing suicide."

He knocked the weapon from my hand. "You will stay here. You will be safe enough."

"_Why_?" I insisted.

He stared at me, an annoyed look spreading across his face. "_Qué_? Are you serious? Your body could reject the transplant. You could be fighting off the early stages of an infection, and if you were to go out into battle, you would exhaust yourself."

"Reject?" I squeaked.

"_El_ transplant, _estùpido_!" Medic threw his hands in the air. "Human hearts cannot endure the strain of the Übercharge! I had to use an artificial heart; one grown in a lab and pumped full of steroids!"

I unconsciously put a hand to my chest. "So…where did my other heart go…?"

"It will be put to good use." Medic assured, walking back to the lab. "The Games start in _tres_ hours. I would get some sleep if I were you."

I was left alone in the sick bay. Medic seemed…different from the last two days. When he had once been fricking scary and uncaring, he seemed to flip the coin and be the opposite today...perhaps even caring. Maybe it was my imagination…maybe I was the one going crazy.

I took Medic's advice and shut my eyes, hoping to at least be a bit more relaxed before the Games.

**XxXxXxXx**

_Boom_.

A deep rumble rippled through the room, wrenching me from sleep. I sat up a bit too quickly, the new skin covering my chest complaining painfully. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and cautiously stood, fighting off the darkness that swarmed my vision.

_Boom_!

The explosions were closer now.

I located the pistol that Medic had knocked out of my hand earlier. I retrieved it and held it in my right hand, staring toward the sick bay door. No doubt it was locked, but would it withstand the blasts of Soldier's rockets? What about Demoman's grenades?

I walked around the bay twice, trying to restore some feelings in my limbs. My heart was still making the strange _thunk-thump… Thunk-thump… Thunk-thump _sounds from before. A slight pain accompanied every heartbeat.

"Right…" I muttered to myself. "I need a shirt."

Just walking around the sick bay with the bandages wrapped around my upper half made me feel exposed. If someone did happen to blast their way in here, I didn't want them to know I had just recovered from a major surgery.

A quick rummage through of the stand next to my bed turned up empty. There wasn't anything in it except for a Pyro's glove.

I sat on the edge of my bed and listened to the sounds of battle outside.

_Boom_!

Another rocket struck the side of the base, sending another rumble through the room.

"_MAGGOTS_!"

"Holy shit…" I muttered. The shout sounded extremely close…

_Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump!_

My vision began to go fuzzy again. I pressed the side of the pistol to my forehead, the cool metal clearing my sight and head.

_Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump!_

My new heart was drowning out the sounds outside. I took a few deep breaths, feeling it begin to slow. Another explosion made the floor rumble.

"Just what is goin' on out there?" I hissed. "All dis action…and I have to miss out on it!"

Something shattered just outside the door.

Wait…In order to get into the sick bay, you had to go through Medic's lab…so whoever was out there made it into his lab…?!

I gripped the pistol tighter and stood, making my way silently toward the exit. There were voices…hushed, unfamiliar voices.

"Zis is incredible." One was saying with a heavy accent. "How can one person use all zis equipment? Vat do zay need all zis for, anyway?"

"I do not know, doctor." Said another, this one deeper and more pronounced. "But we really need it."

"Make zure to get ze painkillers." The first voice hastily added. "I'm nearly out. Oh…actually…I think I ran out zis morning…If we don't get more, ze team will complain more zan zey already do."

The sounds of glass being broken rang out in the room, closely followed by the first man's gleeful giggling. "Oh, I love causing so much destruction!"

"There are none." The second man said. "No pain killers. I check everywhere."

"Hmm. Vell, maybe he stored them in ze sickbay."

I ducked to the side of the door and dropped to one knee. When they entered the room, the door would open and hide me from view. That may just give me the element of surprise to land a decent shot on whoever seemed most threatening…

The doorknob began to rattle.

My heart was pounding so hard I was surprised they couldn't already hear it.

"Doctor, allow Heavy." The gravely, deep-voiced man said.

I forced my hands to stop shaking. I was about to face two members of the RED team. If I played my cards right, I might be able to make it out alive…

The door's handle emitted a loud _SNAP_. The door itself rattled in its hinges for a few seconds until the handle fell out of place altogether, dropping to the floor with a loud metallic sound. I held my breath.

_Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump!_

"No one there, Doctor." The Heavy said.

The door was cautiously pushed open. I was still holding my breath as the man walked partially into the room, carrying a large minigun. He was huge, much bigger than our own team's Heavy. This guy must have weighed over 250 pounds easily. He was bald and I couldn't see his face from where I was crouching.

"Check ze cabinets." The RED Medic was saying.

The Heavy lumbered into the sick bay, his footfalls alone sending vibrations through the floor. There was no way I would be able to take him on alone…not in my current state. I would have to first take care of the Medic.

And yet, I couldn't move from my hiding spot. If I dared to, the Heavy would no doubt spot me. Hell, all he had to do was turn around! I had no idea if the Medic was watching him, either. As soon as I fired a shot, he'd be on me in an instant with a bonesaw.

I realized I was still holding my breath. I let it out as slowly as I dared.

"No medicine!" Heavy reported, rummaging through the nearest bedstand's drawers.

"Zat _betrug_! Vere could he have hidden zem?"

Heavy turned to the door to reply. I completely froze; forgetting to breathe and steady my arms to take a shot at him.

"I do not…" he trailed off as he spotted me. His relatively tiny eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "Medic!"

"_Ja_, vat?"

"Is Scout! There is Sc-_AAAARRGH_!"

Without thinking, I regained control of my limbs and took brief aim, letting a single bullet fly into his shoulder. He dropped the weapon he was lugging around and clutched at his injured limb. I jumped out from where I had been hiding, quickly rounding the corner and taking aim at the Medic.

"What are you doing?" I demanded. "How did'ya get in here?"

The RED Medic dropped the armload of bottles and vials he was carrying with a crash. He was older, at least in his forties. He wore tiny circular glasses at the end of his nose and his short, slightly graying black hair curled in the front. The MediGun was holstered at his left side, a Crusader's Crossbow at his right. "_Wo hast dud as her?! Wo kommst du her?!_"

"What are you doing here?" I repeated.

Medic blinked, still slightly shocked. He pushed his glasses back onto his nose. "Medicine! Ve need more medicine at ze RED base…! Heavy…!?"

Despite being under my gunpoint, he completely lost interest in me and rushed into the sickbay, where the RED Heavy was still standing, torn between pain and confusion. The Medic upholstered the large MediGun at his side and trained it on the injured man, muttering, "_Dummkoph._"

"Hey! I'm still here!" I shouted. "I could kill you both!"

"You could have done zat a long time ago." Medic retorted. "So vhy aren't ve dead?"

"Leetle baby man is going to die." Heavy promised with a glare. "Heavy could shoot dead. Didn't."

"So why didn't _you_?!" I demanded. The wound on his shoulder was nearly healed.

"Look at you." Medic said without turning to face me. "It wouldn't be much of a challenge, vould it? No fun at all."

He finished healing Heavy's wound and placed the MediGun back in its holder at his side. "It is obvious you just received ze überheart transplant, _nein_?"

"So what?" I said, nervously shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "I can still kill you!"

"Do it, leetle man. Heavy dares you."

I wanted to pull the trigger. I really did. Something…some invisible force kept me from doing it. I wanted to kill them. So what was holding me back?

"Zis would be your first kill, _ja_?" Medic pulled the Crusader's Crossbow from the holster.

_Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump! Thunk-thump!_

"Put it down!" I shouted.

"I am not going to kill you yet." Medic said. "You should get ze feel of ze battlefield first. Zen maybe killing won't be as pleasant of a concept for you."

We both shot at the same time. My bullet missed its mark, sailing over his left shoulder. The syringe the crossbow fired hit me in my shoulder, the force of it piercing my muscles and making me stagger.

"Let us go, Heavy." Medic said.

I stumbled against the wall, struggling to stay upright. My vision was too bright, and my ears seemed to be magnifying the sounds around me as the RED Medic and Heavy stepped over broken glass, making their way back to the door.

"Argh!" I spat out, ripping the now empty syringe from my shoulder. My own heartbeat was deafening.

I turned, watching as the REDs left the lab. I wanted to take another shot at them, but I seemed to have lost my pistol. My limbs felt too heavy to move, anyway. The lab door was opened; the two of them greeted by their Scout.

My eyes widened slightly as he spotted me. I managed to fight off the drug long enough to watch him and his teammates abandon me in my own base's lab.

**XxXxXxXx**

I was raised with seven older brothers.

My ma was one of the providers, but she never reached the suggested number of children. After my dad—her second husband—died, she didn't remarry and continue providing the city with future workers.

Because of the fact that she was one of the providers, she couldn't find work. She left that up to me. She helped forge my birth certificate and I got a job working underage.

Did my older brothers help? No. They were a lazy bunch of morons. I think the only one that ever paid me any positive attention was Keith.

Keith taught me how to run. He taught me how to fight off opponents bigger than me. And he was really my only friend for years.

Never did I dream I would find him in the Games.

And yet there was no mistaking him…he was definitely the RED team's Scout. Just what had he done to end up here, anyway? The last I saw of him, he said he was off to find out why my dad was killed…

"_SCOUT!_"

My eyes flew open and I sat upright in the sick bay bed I had been returned to. Medic was standing beside me, anger and confusion written into his face. "_Que pasó? Lo Que ha pasado aquí?!_"

"I can't understand yer Es-pan-no!" I put a hand to my head. The bright lights in the sickbay were making me queasy.

"_Es-pañ-ol!_" Medic corrected harshly. He sighed and shook his head. "What happened here? Why is my lab destroyed?"

"The RED Medic." I said, glancing around the room. Along with myself, Engineer, Heavy and Soldier were occupying the bay, all three of them bearing various pained expressions. Engineer's hardhat was sitting on the bandstand, his head swathed in bandages. Heavy's leg was elevated on a stack of pillows and he was sporting a rather bloody cut to the side of his head. Soldier's arm was in a sling and his left eye was swollen shut.

"What about him?" Medic asked.

"He was looking for something." I didn't dare bring up the Heavy that had been with him. "Painkillers, I think."

Medic nodded. "_Sí_…I myself ran out a while ago…"

"Who won?" I asked.

"A draw!" Soldier shouted. "And it was close!"

"Oh." I sighed. "So did ya kill them after th' Game?"

"Couldn't." Heavy said. "They locked themselves in their base…by the time we managed to break through, the Games had come to an end."

"That sucks." I said.

Medic strayed from my bedside and went to attend to Heavy's leg. "Scout, I want you to stay still for the next 24 hours. Your sudden movements earlier today nearly tore open your wound."

I sighed and propped myself up with pillows. "Hey, Engie, you doin' alright?"

"I'll be fine, son." Engineer said. "I just took a crack to the head from the RED's Engineer. Nothing major, I assure you, but it sure hurt like hell."

"What of th' other Engie?" I grinned.

"I managed to land a shot with my pistol—I didn't kill him, I never got the chance—but he has a nice hole through the center of his hand and part of his arm."

"Oooh. Nice." I said.

"That'll put him back a few weeks, at least." Engineer continued, a solemn look on his face. Despite my enjoyment at his story, he didn't appear to share the enthusiasm. "But even then…I only heard that their Heavy and Sniper were injured during the match."

"Well, it was a draw." I shrugged.

"There's another Game in two days, boy." Engineer almost snapped at me. "It wasn't enough of a setback for them. The goal of this Game today was to cripple the other team as much as we could. Winning would be a bonus. And unfortunately, it looks like they have the advantage."

I sighed. "What about Medic? Can't he just heal us? Like he does in battle?"

"Using the MediGun is a precise science." Engineer said. "If there are foreign objects in the wound, it can't simply close over them! Medic has to manually dig them out; be it bullets or gravel, and then dispose of any narcotic tissue so the MediGun has live cells to work off on, and—"

"Alright, hard hat, I get it!" All that science talk was making my head spin more than it was.

Engineer heaved another sigh. "It's a tough time for us BLUs."

Across the room, Medic assisted Heavy to his feet, allowing the much larger man to use him as a crutch. The two of them slowly exited the room and into the lab, where Medic shut and locked the door.

**XxXxXxXx**

**BLU Medic is insane, and BLU Engie is so nice. I love writing them.**

**Anyway, remember to review, please!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28**


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

**Battles and stuff in this chapter! Hurray!**

**XxXxXxXx**

"So I get to be in th' Games?"

"_Sí_. But only if you do not push yourself."

"Don't worry, doc!" I grinned, cracking my knuckles. "We'll win this Game for sure!"

Medic nodded curtly. "Get out of here and get decent clothing on. The Game starts in five hours."

Finally free from the sickbay, I walked out a new man. I returned to my new room and changed from the scrubs that Medic had given me, pulling out a BLU shirt and black jeans. Once properly dressed, I grabbed my headset and walked back outside.

A static-y noise was coming from the headset. I turned a small dial at the bottom of it, unaware that the thing actually worked. The static eventually materialized into voices.

"_Can you hear me? Miles? Miles?_"

"Wha…?! Keith?!" I nearly shouted.

"_Oh, so you can hear me._" My brother gave a nervous laugh. "_You wouldn't believe how hard Dell worked on this thing. It would be a shame if it didn't connect with you._"

"What d'ya want?" I asked. "We're supposed to be enemies!"

"_Listen, bro, there's a few things I have to tell you._" Keith sighed, sending another burst of static through the headset. "_I just got here and all, so I'm new to the whole kill-or-be-killed thing_—"

"What d'ya want?" I repeated.

"_We have a bit of info on your teammates._" Keith said. "_Some rather…classified info, I may add._"

"Which is…?"

"_That Medic of yours? Insane. Bi-polar and schizophrenic. He was moved here to the Games because he autopsied some people…alive._" Keith took a breath. "_Your Pyro…please tell me you haven't met him yet…a menace to both teams._"

"Like yours isn't?" I growled. "I can't believe ya, Keith. You're on th' other side."

"_Trust me, bro. Please._"

"No. Get out of my headset." I turned the volume knob down as low as it could go.

**XxXxXxXx**

"_Mission begins in 60 seconds._"

I nervously clutched my scattergun, my pistol and bat at my side. This was the first Game I would get to participate in…the excitement was almost too much for me. I giddily shifted from foot to foot.

"_Mission begins in 30 seconds._"

I was stationed just to the left of the Teufort bridge. Soldier had instructed me to run on ahead, as the REDs had begun to expect Heavy and Medic to be the first on the other side. _If we shake things up a little_, he had said, _we'll get the upper hand_.

I sure hoped he was right. And I sure hoped their Sniper wasn't very good. Even from here, I could see the end of his rifle poking through the boarded-up second story windows of the RED base.

"_Mission begins in 10 seconds._"

I took a deep breath. It was crucial that I made it across as fast as I could…from there on out all I had to do was survive until the others made it over. We would all storm their Intel room in a group…

"_Five._"

I realized I had already taken a few steps forward.

"_Four._"

What if they realized the plan? What if, just by my slight movements, they could predict what we were going to do?

"_Three_."

If that was the case, then I just blew it for everyone.

"_Two._"

I took a deep breath. I wondered if my Ma was watching.

"_One._"

A siren sounded somewhere in the distance, loud but not distracting. I ran at the bridge as fast as I could go, nearly tripping over my own feet in the process. My shoes slammed down on the bridge with such force I feared the old structure would break.

I reached RED territory. I quickly ducked into the gates leading into their base, pressing myself against the inside wall. No one was in sight. Now I simply waited. I glanced around the side of the wall.

Soldier jumped into the air and shot a rocket at his feet, propelling him up and over the bridge, where he landed with a crack on the other side. He stumbled to me, limping and favouring his left leg.

"Bad jump," he growled. "Gotta wait for Medic before going on…"

I turned my attention back to our side. Heavy and Medic were making their way across now, slowly but surely. The Sniper positioned in the RED's base didn't take aim for them. In fact, he wasn't moving at all…

"MEDIC!" Soldier shouted.

"_Sí_? What?" Medic caught up with us and turned the MediGun on Soldier. I heard his leg give an uncomfortable pop.

"Thanks."

"Get moving!" Medic motioned for me. "Go on ahead. You are _el_ Scout, after all."

I took a few steps into the base. It was the exact same as ours, except reversed. The only difference besides the mirrored effect was the colouring. Instead of our light blues, theirs was a dull red. Pink, even. I gave a nervous chuckle at that.

"Lead on!" Soldier prompted.

I located the stairway that would lead to their Intelligence. Throwing open the door, I was met by nothing. I gripped my scattergun tighter and cautiously began my curved descent downward.

"You're a Scout, right?" Heavy asked.

"Duh." I said back.

"You're supposed to be quick. Get a move on."

"I'm workin' on it. Do ya want to die?" I forced myself to move a bit faster.

I stepped off the final step and onto the lower level of their base. Once again, it was deserted. Strange…

"BEHIND YOU!" Heavy shouted.

I spun around just in time to catch the fleeting glimpses of the cloaking RED Spy as he ducked behind Medic, the caboose in our invading party.

I almost shot. I'm glad I didn't. Scatterguns do just that; scatter. I didn't want to hit my teammates…

"MOVE!" Medic insisted, pushing Soldier and Heavy out of the staircase. We stood back to back, watching for anything that moved.

"I will not let another BLU fall to this Spy!" Heavy shouted, minigun roaring as he showered most of the room in bullets. Nothing was hit…nothing bled.

"Keep moving! That bastard will show himself sooner or later!" Soldier said. "Go, Scout!"

My knees were shaking. Never before had I been so close to death in my life. I swallowed the lump that was forming in my throat and lead the way, waiting for sharp metal to sink into my back.

I rounded the corner that lead into the Intelligence room. Barriers were set up just like they were at the BLU base, preventing me from seeing directly into the room. I heard the three quick beeps of a sentry.

"We need ta take care of that somehow." I said.

"No doubt an Engineer nearby…" Soldier turned and kept a lookout behind us. "He would have run up and attempted to kill you by now."

"What do we do?" I asked.

"Ready to charge." Medic grinned nastily. I shuddered involuntarily. It was the same grin he had given me before he tore me to shreds. "Heavy, come. Hurry."

The two of them rounded the first corner, but the harsh sound of bullets being fired didn't echo around the base yet. I followed them, waiting behind the second wall.

Medic activated something on the MediGun, casting a metallic blue glow over both himself and Heavy. The sentry hidden behind the second wall began to fire, but I knew it didn't stand a chance. In an explosion that drove metal into the wall, it was defeated; blown to bits.

"Hurry, Scout! To the Intel!" Soldier encouraged. I jumped out of hiding and grabbed the briefcase, trading my scattergun for my pistol. I would only have one hand to fight with.

"_The enemy has taken the Intelligence!_" the Announcer proclaimed.

I gulped down the tightening feeling in my throat again. "Now what?"

"We go back!" Heavy said. "Hurry!"

"_Idiota_, have you even seen the Games?" Medic spat. "It is simple to follow, even for the most lacking in brain cells!"

I bit back a retort and instead followed Soldier. He was leading us back, Medic and Heavy following behind me. We made it back to the base of the stairs before we ran into trouble.

An explosion rang out in the bend of the stairway. Soldier backpedaled, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Move!" He pushed me to the side of the entryway to the stairs. I pressed my back against it, hardly daring to breathe. My heart was beating so loudly I could barely hear anything else.

A shout of pain followed by a BLU grenade rolled into the lower level, the grenade exploding with a deafening bang. Luckily, my headset covered my left ear, which was closest to the explosion. My right ear was ringing. But at least we received some good news…Demo had made it across the bridge.

"MEDIC!" The pained shout came again.

From the stairs came RED's Sniper. He didn't notice us and instead walked as if in a daze toward the next nearest door. He was bleeding heavily between his shoulder blades and limping.

"Ahh, a sitting duck." Medic grinned nastily and pulled out a bonesaw. He hurried up to the Sniper, silent as death.

"MED—" the Sniper didn't get to finish before Medic reached around his neck and sharply cut across his throat with the saw. The Sniper gurgled out something else before dropping to his knees, twitching madly, and then collapsing motionless altogether.

"It is not every day I have such a fine specimen…" Medic was laughing now as he kicked the Sniper onto his back.

"Doc…?" I managed to ask.

"Don't interrupt him, boy." Soldier said. "He's in one of his trances. Distract him and you'll likely be the next one dead."

Medic slashed the bonesaw across the dead Sniper's chest, carving a deep, upside-down triangle into his body. I turned away, feeling sick.

"Let's go." Heavy said.

Soldier prodded me in the back with his rocket launcher, forcing me to the stairs. Heavy took the lead this time, minigun spun down and ready to let loose a hail of bullets.

We reached the top of the stairs without problem. It was when we exited the enclosed stairway that we reached a dead end.

"The RED's Heavy and Medic are out there." Heavy reported. "And their Engineer, Scout and Demoman."

"Aw jeez…" I stammered. "Well, c-come on…! Let's waste 'em!"

"Are you stupid?" Soldier growled.

"I'll get you as far as I can." Heavy offered. "But once I'm dead…you're on your own."

"What? No!" I protested. "You can't kill yourself for me! Come on, we'll just get Medic and we can—"

A red grenade rolled into the stairway. Soldier pushed me backward and I lost my balance, tumbling head over heels down the cement stairs. A deafening explosion rang out, making my uncovered ear ring loudly.

"Agh!" I finally landed back on the lower floor. I snapped my fingers next to my head, but the ringing was still too intense to hear anything else.

I glanced behind me at Medic, who was too immersed in the dissection of the RED Sniper to pay any attention. I quickly turned my attention away and back toward the stairs.

Soldier was there, yelling something at me. His left leg was bleeding, the pantleg severed just below his knee. His helmet was missing and I barely managed to hear what he said.

"Scout! Hurry! Get up and run! They're right—"

He didn't get to finish as a brown bottle slammed down over his head, the thick glass cracking and spilling something light brown over his shoulders. He slumped and tumbled down the last few steps.

I stood to run; at least put some ground in-between myself and the REDs to make a plan. I had barely taken two steps when I tilted to the right, crashing back to the tiled floor. My ear was still ringing. I felt incredibly dizzy.

"_Get up,_" a voice hissed in my headset. "_Get up and fight, you coward!_"

I turned back toward the stairs, dread sinking in my stomach.

Standing over Soldier's unconscious body were three of the REDs. Their Demoman, Medic and Scout—Keith.

I just now realized I didn't have the Intelligence or my scattergun. I gripped at my pistol, raising it and aiming at Medic.

"Put that down, laddie." The RED Demo said.

"Bro, please." Keith glanced at the BLU Medic, who was only a few feet away and paying us no attention.

"What do ya want?" I demanded. The ringing was beginning to subside.

"I want to talk to you." Keith said.

Upstairs, a flash of light lit the stairway as bright as the sun. I saw something dark splatter the walls.

I fired twice, missing their Medic the first time but hitting his shoulder on the second. I jumped up with speed I didn't know I had and made a mad dash for the nearest door.

My entire body felt as though I was being dragged to the side. My left ear ached and rung, my entire sense of balance thrown off. I thought I had made progress toward the door, when in reality I had only taken a few steps.

Something sharp dug into my shoulder blades. My first thought was the RED Spy had found me, but a second later darkness overtook my vision.

"Aw, crap." I mumbled before I fell into a drugged sleep.

**XxXxXxXx**

"Is what we're even doing legal in the Games?"

"Who cares."

"It's not stated in the guidelines."

"So, Keith. What are ya gonna do, boy? Start a family reunion?"

"Shut up, Dell. Jacques isn't my father, anyway."

"Shut up, ze both of you!"

I didn't know where I was, but the voices that surrounded me didn't worry me in the slightest. I blinked open my eyes, staring up at a light red ceiling. Wait…why wasn't it blue?

"He's awake, guys." I heard Keith saying.

"Finally." Another voice said.

Three figures swam into view. I recognized two of them. My brother was giving me a relieved smile and the RED Medic was staring down at me like a disease. Another man, this one wearing an orange hardhat and welder goggles cast me a mildly interested look.

….Wait.

RED…?

I knew I should be panicking, but my muscles were completely relaxed. I actually didn't care what happened to me. I just wanted to lie here—wherever here was—forever.

"Hey, bro." Keith knelt beside me. "How ya doin'?"

I was too comfortable to respond.

"Do not bother him, Keith." The Medic said. "He needs all ze rest he can get. Undergoing two überheart surgeries can take a lot out of someone."

Two…? What?

I closed my eyes, trying to recall what the hell happened. Before I knew it, I fell back asleep.

**XxXxXxXx**

What a terrible dream.

I yawned and sat up, a dull ache in the center of my chest. I was back in the sickbay, alone and dressed in button down pajamas that didn't belong to me. Alone with the red walls.

So it hadn't been a dream.

I glanced around my bedside, but my weapons were nowhere to be found. I gingerly threw my legs over the side of the bed and attempted to stand, relieved to find that I could balance once again. I gingerly took a couple of steps toward the open door at the end of the bay. I could hear someone in there…most likely their Medic.

I silently glanced in.

BLU's Medic was a clean freak. RED's Medic was the complete opposite. Piles of junk and paper were everywhere, some of it stained with motor oil and grease. Only in the far corner of the room was it free of clutter. An examination table was set up, a smaller workspace set up beside it. It took me a few moments to locate the Medic.

He was sitting at a wooden desk adorned with a statue of a bearded man with a gold plaque, shuffling through some paper. A few white doves sat nearby, glancing around the room and cooing softly. His back was to me. He hadn't noticed me yet.

I took a step into the room and grabbed the first thing I could find: a large wrench. This probably belonged to their Engineer. I took another step.

Medic sighed and tossed the papers he was looking through away. He pulled the tiny glasses he wore off his face and cleaned them on the side of his coat. "Zis is stupid…" he muttered. One of the doves cocked its head to the side in a confused look.

I was nearly close enough to strike. I raised the wrench, ready to slam it down on his skull.

Medic reacted instantly. He threw himself to the left, grabbing the statue as he went. Now standing, we held our blunt weapons cautiously, glaring at each other.

"Your shadow fell across ze desk." Medic said. "Zat's how I saw you."

"What am I doing here?" I demanded. "What did ya do to me?"

"I did you a favour." Medic said. He relaxed slightly, placing the statue back on the desk. "Put zat wrench down. Dell will be furious."

"Dell?"

"Our Engineer." Medic stooped into a bow. "Please, call me Viktor. I know you are Miles."

I could strike him on the back of the neck and there would be one less RED to worry about. I could end his life right now. And yet, something held me back. There was something about this Medic that was different than BLU's own…

I placed the wrench on his desk.

"Now as for your question…" Viktor shuffled through the papers and pulled out two clear sheets. "Zis is your heart before I corrected ze mistakes ze BLU Medic made…" He held one up against the light.

I was looking at a ribcage. Well, through a ribcage. He pointed to a dark shape about the size of a large fist. "Zat is your heart. And zis is ze device that transfers the über energy into ze charge." A large, gray metallic object was jammed in sideways into the left side of the heart, nearly half the size of it.

"Now ze problem with zat is zis…" Viktor circled the heart outline with a red gloved finger. "Zat is blood zat has been pooling. Your heart…sprung a leak. It was killing you."

"It was…?" I blinked. This didn't make any sense.

"_Ja_. And zis is your heart now…" he held the second clear photograph up. The dark splotches around my heart were gone and the über device wasn't crooked. "I think zat you would be dead by now if I had not corrected ze mistakes."

I put a hand to my chest, feeling the normal rhythm of my heart. It wasn't loud and clunky like before…maybe he really had done something.

"Thanks…I guess." I shrugged. "But what am I really doin' here?"

"Zat…you'll have to ask your brother about." Viktor said. "He should be in ze recreation room."

I left through the lab and entered into the hallway. It was odd…everything was reverse and differently coloured. Already, the base was cleaned up. Not a single trace of blood lined the walls from the previous battle. I pushed open the door to the recreation room.

It too was as cluttered as the lab. A ping-pong table was covered with red plastic cups, empty beer cans scattered everywhere. Sitting on a beat-up couch was Keith, listening to an equally beat up MP3 player.

"Keith?" I asked.

He pulled one earbud out. "Hey, Miles. Glad to see you still alive."

"What is all dis about?" I growled. "Why am I here? What's goin' on?"

"Bro, the BLUs are insane." Keith said.

"So are th' fricken' REDs!"

"Do they dissect people alive for an überheart transplant?" Keith frowned. "Does my team refuse to put you out during the duration of said transplant as well?"

I frowned back at him.

"Truth is, we're all just a little bit insane." Keith picked up a can of Bonk! from the floor next to the couch and snapped it open. "I want to give you the better end of the deal."

"Which is…?" I asked.

He took a few sips of his drink. "I want to switch teams."

"An' what will that do?" I demanded.

"Give you a chance." He said.

"A chance at _what_?!"

"A chance of winning." Keith said with a shrug.

"Winning?" I blinked.

"Jeez, didn't Miss. Pauling tell you anything?" Keith sighed and pulled the other earpiece out of his head. "If you win enough Games, you can go free."

"Where?"

"Outside the walls of the city."

"Really?"

"That's what she told me. And unless the rules have changed, the offer still stands."

I took a second to mull this over. "It's for th' whole team?"

"Maybe. If they last ten rounds without dying. RED's got a chance. Most of these guys have been around for at least four games."

"An' you're givin' up your chance of gettin' out for me." I clarified.

"Yep. Gotta watch out for my little brother. That's what I promised Ma."

I sat in silence for a while.

Keith eventually stood, patting me on the shoulder as he walked toward the door. "I would get changed into the Scout stuff. My room's open for you. I've just gotta make the switch with Miss Pauling."

"Tell her I said 'hi'." I said.

I felt completely numb. Everything was moving much too fast.

**XxXxXxXx**

**Sorry about the complete lack of everything lately. I was busy with work and college preparation and crap like that. Hopefully, though, I will get a chance to churn out the rest of this before September.**

**Anyway, that RED Medic is the weirdo we all know and love.**

**Remember to review, please!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28**


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

**XxXxXxXx**

**I know it's been a really long time since I've posted a chapter for this…and well, everything. I've got a lot on my plate for the moment, but I won't stop writing until I hit 100 stories! It's just with college and stuff, it becomes kind of hard to find time to write fanfiction for a game I don't get a lot of chances to play anymore. My computer's gotten too slow to play TF2 anymore, but I still love the characters and gameplay. **

**Anyway, enough of my ramblings. Enjoy chapter 5, and don't forget to review!**

**XxXxXxXx**

"Aye, you're Miles?"

I turned to face the RED team's Demo; a strongly built black man with an eyepatch over his left eye. He was wearing a hat of some sort, something I thought should only be worn in the winter. One side of his goatee was longer than the other. He took a long drink from a brown bottle.

"Yeah…?" I felt unfamiliar with my own name.

"Pleased ta meet ya, mate. I'm Tavish DeGroot, the Demoman." He held out a hand, his breath smelling of some sort of alcohol. "Call me Tavish."

I went to complete the handshake, but he tilted to the left at the last second, missing my hand. He stumbled back upright and grinned. "That's some _good_ scrumpy."

"I might have to have some of that later." I said.

Tavish's grin grew wider. "Laddie, this'll knock ya off yer feet."

"I can see."

He laughed. "You look a lot like yer brother."

I turned to head to the door. I had to find out when the next Game was. "I know." I responded.

"And yer dad. You have the same eyes."

I stopped and turned back around to face him. "You knew my dad?"

"Well, _sure _I do!" He took another long drink from the bottle. "Won't stop tellin' us about ya mum!"

"Wh…?!" I managed. "He's _alive_?!"

"Keith never told ya?" Tavish seemed to sober up for a moment. "Aye, he is alive. I'd ask Jacques."

With that he took another long gulp and pushed past me, nearly falling over my feet in the process. The sharp smell of the alcohol nearly made me sneeze. I watched him stumble off, something caught between confusion and excitement in my gut.

My father was alive.

But how? And who was he? Who was this Jacques person that knew about him?

I started walking, finding myself in the main entryway. The BLU base was just a bridge away. I wondered if Keith was doing alright with my former teammates.

I sighed and adjusted my hat. If my dad was really alive, then Ma wouldn't know. I could always tell when she was lying, and whenever she spoke of my father, her voice and expression never changed from the solemn grief.

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Tavish, where can I find this Jaq—" I trailed off in horror as I caught sight of a pair of black and orange fireproof gloves. My gaze was drawn to the two lenses on the Pyro's face, where supposedly its eyes were.

The RED Pyro tilted his (…her…its?) head. "Mmpf?"

"Ah…I'm lookin' f-for Tavish!" I stumbled. To my relief, I realized it wasn't carrying around its flamethrower. "He said to talk to this Jacques guy!"

"Mmm!" The Pyro nodded and clapped, the sound of its rubber gloves odd in the echoic base. It waved its hands around spastically, carving symbols into the air. "Mmmf! Mmh!"

"What…?" I took a deep breath. I wasn't about to die.

"Mff!" It repeated the symbols.

I blinked, unsure of what to do. The Pyro sighed and grabbed for my sleeve, tugging me out of the main entryway. "Where are we goin'?" I asked.

"Mmmff!"

The Pyro dragged me down into the lower level of the base and into the Intelligence room. We maneuvered around the walls that blocked our way until the smell of a harsh smoke met my nostrils. Sitting behind the desk and fiddling with the RED briefcase was a well-dressed man in a maroon suit. He was wearing black gloves and a mask over his face that matched the suit. In his left hand was a tightly rolled cigarette, which was giving off a small trail of blueish smoke.

I coughed, drawing his attention from the briefcase.

"Hudda mmmf!" the Pyro exclaimed, excitedly pointing from the Spy to me and repeating the odd symbols.

"Yes, I can see that. _Merci_, Terry." The Spy said, echoing back the gestures. He inhaled the cigarette he was smoking and blew a smoke ring at the briefcase. "So you're the new Scout?"

"I guess." I shrugged. "Are you Jacques?"

"Yes." He snuffed the cigarette out on the table. "And you're Miles, correct?"

I nodded. "Tavish told me to talk to you. He said ya knew my dad?"

Jacques chuckled and stood, abandoning the Intelligence and a few screwdrivers. "How is your mother doing?"

I shrugged again. "She's got mixed feelings about the Games an' all. But ya didn't answer my question."

The Pyro, who I now assume is Terry, started glancing back and fourth between the two of us. It tilted its head and leaned a bit closer to me, staring at my face.

"Terry, what…?" I took a step back.

"Hudda hudda. Mfff mph mff!" It pointed from me to Jacques and back again.

"She says that we look the same." Jacques translated.

"She…?"

Jacques nodded. "Today she is a she. Tomorrow, maybe she will be a he. Who knows."

"What?" I was even more confused now.

"Hudda hudda!" Terry patted Jacques on the shoulder and motioned to the glassed over ports in its face, where I assumed its eyes were.

"She says that we have the same eyes."

"We do?" I frowned. "So…you're sayin'…that you're my dad?"

"I thought you would never get to that conclusion." Jacques grinned. "Your mother would recognize me. I doubted you would."

"You're…_my_ dad..." I squinted. "No freakin' way."

Jacques simply raised an eyebrow and took his seat back at the table, where he began fiddling with the RED briefcase once again.

**XxXxXxXx**

"What's with the Pyro?"

"Vat do you mean?"

I shooed one of the doves that was attempting to steal pieces of my sock off. "Everything." I said.

"Oh, vell, zat is a secret." Viktor crumpled up and threw away something that look suspiciously like a certificate into the trash. One of the doves immediately jumped in the bin after it, shredding it and carrying out strips of paper. "Unless you are talking about ze sign language. I should be teaching you zat, actually…And why are you back here again? I zhought you hated it."

"You're the only one I really know the location of at the moment. Where the heck is everyone else?"

Viktor shrugged. "I have documents to attend to."

"I met my so-called dad." I said.

"Oh, _ja_, Jacques?" Viktor grinned. "He vas my best patient. I had to replace his lung."

"What? Why?"

"Because of all ze smoking he does now." Viktor hesitated for a moment. "You…do know vat smoking does to you, yes?"

"Not really."

Viktor abandoned the report he was filing out and turned around in the chair to face me. "Vell, you see, ze cigarette is filled with addictive substances, one of which is called nicotine. Once addicted to ze nicotine, you have ze urge to smoke more and more to meet ze craving—"

"I don't speak doctor, doc." I said. "And why can't we get this stuff out in the city? How come it's only here? An' where does Tavish get all that strong-smelling stuff in the bottle?"

"Ah…see, it's been zuch a long time since I've been outside ze Games…" Viktor sighed. "But all of ze harmful substances have been removed, I suppose. We get them in here because…vell, we're expected to not make it out. Think of it as a luxury."

"An' is this stuff that Tavish drinks addictive?" I asked.

"_Ja_. Don't be getting any ideas. I am trying to get him to stop and he is almost through his fifth liver."

"Right…" I sighed. "Things are so different now…Is there anything in here that's off limits, like in the city?"

"Why yes, zere is." Viktor said. "But, at ze moment, you are not in danger of breaking any. I vould not worry about it."

"So what's dis sign language?"

"Terry cannot speak to us like we do with him." Viktor thought for a second. "I suppose all you need to know at ze moment are ze basic signs…zings like _ja_ and _nein_."

"Huh?"

"Zis is yes." He made a fist. "It is like knocking at an invisible door." Viktor knocked on the air twice.

"Ok, seems easy enough." I shrugged and mirrored his movement. "What's no?"

The Medic touched his thumb to his index and middle finger. "Like a hand puppet." He grinned and motioned with the three fingers as such. "Zat's vat Terry says about it, anyway."

I nodded. "Do you guys all know how to talk to him? Like I'm talkin' to you, but in sign language?"

"You vill become fluent in it over time." Viktor assured. "Now, unless you are here to help me vith zese medical reports, kindly leave."

**XxXxXxXx**

"…An' then I said to th' laddie, 'you're goin' nowhere, mate. I'll carve a pumpkin outta yer head'!"

Tavish's roaring drunken laughter was immensely contagious, causing the three seated at the worn poker table to at least chuckle.

"That's a load of crap and you know it!" The RED Soldier, a well-built man with his helmet pulled down over his eyes accused. "You have as much skill with a knife as the Russians have a well-run government!"

I pulled up a chair next to Tavish. "Oooh," I snickered, "do ya need Medic to heal that burn?"

This caused more laughter around the table. Tavish put an arm around my shoulders and laughed so hard I feared I would fall out of my chair and he really would need Viktor to work his medical magic.

"I love ya, man!" he slurred. "I really love ya! Lookit this Scout! He's funny!"

The other member of the table was the RED Engineer, who sat with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. His eyes were hidden by welding goggles and the hardhat on his head was backwards. "Careful, Tavish. You'll knock him onto the floor."

"Now ya see why I loooove workin' here?" Tavish continued, ignoring the Engineer. "I meet all these great mates, ya know? They're so nice! An' we work together! That's why we haven't been defeated in so long! Cheers!"

He let go of me and drank the rest of whatever was still in the bottle.

"What's your name, son?" the Engineer turned toward me.

"I'm Miles." I said. "You?"

"Dell. Dell Conagher." He motioned to the Soldier. "This is—"

"Sergeant Jane Doe!" Soldier beat him to it.

I chuckled. "Isn't dat a girl's name?"

"You will benefit from treating me with respect, maggot! I am by far your superior!" Jane growled, tilting his helmet up to glare at me. The creases around his jaw turned into a scowl. "Or I will retire you personally!"

"Ok, ok, jeez." I shrugged.

Dell cast a look at Tavish, who had gone surprisingly quiet. The Demoman was hunched over in his seat, head bowed in sleep. I nudged his arm. "Ya still alive?"

A snore answered me.

"Who else have ya met around here?" Dell inquired.

"The creep who claims to be my dad, Viktor, you, Terry, Jane, and Tavish." I listed off.

"Jacques?" Dell snickered. "Keith didn't want to believe it at first either."

"Yeah, well, th' difference between me an' him is I only believe what I see. Ma's never told me about dis Jacques guy. She thought he was dead."

"Frenchie's dead to_ me_." Jane muttered.

"Hey now." Dell sighed. "I didn't mean ta make ya upset, son."

I shrugged. "So where's the rest of da team hanging out?"

"I'm surprised you haven't met Misha yet…He's always hanging around Viktor between battles."

"What's he?"

"Misha's the Heavy." Dell said. "He's from Russia and doesn't take kindly to Jane here. An' as of right now, we still need another Sniper before the next game."

"Oh…I've met him, alright. I shot at him when I was still on the BLU's side." I muttered. "And what's Russia?"

"People that should learn to respect America!" Jane declared.

"America?" I asked.

Jane's jaw dropped. "You don't know what America is?"

"No…?"

I had never seen a grown man cry until this moment.

"Wha…?" I started, trailing off as I glanced at Dell, who was trying desperately to hold back laughter.

"America is the land of the free!" Jane passionately shouted, turning toward the Engineer. "And the home of the brave!"

"I know that. I live there, too. Why're ya yellin' at me?" Dell asked.

"So where's this America?" I asked. "Is it like the city?"

"Oh no." Dell shook his head. "Far from it. This place is run like a giant prison camp."

"Huh." I thought for a moment. "So in America, you can drink this stuff?" I pointed to Tavish's empty alcohol bottle. "An' smoke the same crap as Jacques?"

"At your own risk!" Jane said.

"Son, we're normally really not supposed to talk about life outside the city." Dell lowered his voice. "But here, in the Games, I suppose that restriction's off. They don't expect us to live very long, anyway."

"Why are we not allowed to talk about it?" I blurted. "Is it a bad place?"

"They don't want us to know the truth!" Jane shouted. "It's like what this gearhead said…they don't want us knowing that America is by far the more superior place to live! Hell, even Russia would be better than here!"

"Where exactly are we? We're not in America…and we're not in Russia…so where the heck are we?"

"Hell if I know." Dell sighed.

We sat in near-silence for a while, the only sound coming from Tavish as he snored.

"So…What did you do to end up here?" I asked.

"Me? I was looking for answers." Dell said. "An' I reckon I got too close to them. I was dragged off here just as I was about to uncover the secrets of this place."

"What about you?" I asked Jane.

For the first time all night, he was silent. I broke the silence, awkwardly stuttering out, "Um…well I was thrown in here because someone framed me for a murder."

"You've never seen a corpse before, have you?" Dell asked.

"Well, I watched the Games before I was drafted into 'em…" I started.

"No. I meant in person."

"…Nah. I haven't."

"It's a whole different thing to be seein' people die on screen. But once they're up close and personal…it's like a whole different realm of Hell." He leaned forward, his eyes boring holes into my head, even though I couldn't see them. "It changes ya, doesn't it, son?"

I nodded. "It's …weird. An' when that BLU Medic was tearin' apart that Sniper…"

Dell flinched. "He's one sick puppy."

"I thought that much…How bad is he?"

"He's addicted to painkillers. That's why BLU's never got enough. He's got some type of disease…something that rots his organs. He uses the limited MediGun beam to keep himself alive." Dell began listing off. "He's mentally unstable…some type of psychotic intention."

"The MediGun's limited at all times?" I blinked.

"Not during battle." Jane said.

"Whoa." The Games suddenly felt like a much more sinister place.

**XxXxXxXx**

"…There are a few things I have to discuss with your team, but it shouldn't take too long. Ah, I almost forgot to say, welcome to the team!"

I glanced up from where I was sitting behind the Intelligence and took my feet off the table. My hand flew to my pistol, but I didn't draw it as a secret door opened. Miss Pauling and a tall man dressed in the Sniper's garb stepped into the room.

"Oh, hey, Miss Pauling!" I grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Hello, Miles. Where's the rest of the team?"

"I dunno. Probably doin' something dumb. Hey, there's room for two on dis chair, wanna join me?"

"I need to get everyone together." Pauling ignored my offer and motioned to the man standing awkwardly a few steps away. "This is Mick Mundy, the new Sniper."

She hurried off. "I'll be back!"

"So…is Mick short for Mickey or what?" I asked, putting my feet back up on the table as soon as Miss Pauling was out of earshot.

He nodded. "Yeah. Who're you?" he asked in an odd accent that put a little too much annunciation on the vowels.

"I'm Miles. I'm the Scout." I said proudly. "What'd ya do to end up here?"

Mick shrugged. "I'd rather not tell you, mate."

I nodded. "It's cool."

A few moments passed. "Um, did Miss Pauling tell ya about the briefcase?"

"Sheila said to keep it safe." Mick nodded. "Don't let the other team get it."

"Who's Sheila?"

Mick didn't get to answer before voices sounded around the two walls blocking our vision from the stairs. Miss Pauling reappeared around them seconds later, leading the rest of the RED team. "Alright, I have a few things to say!" she declared, facing toward Terry and signing what she was saying.

"I'm listening." I promised, standing. "Want to sit?"

"No, thank you." She continued on with what she had to say. What a babe. "This involves your next paycheck."

A groan spread through the room.

"No, no! It's a good thing!" Pauling assured us. "You're getting a raise. You're the longest standing team in the history of the Games!"

Instead of rejoicing or sighs of relief, utter silence covered the room like a fog. Even Pauling didn't look very happy. "I'm sorry it's a trivial matter." She said. "But I'm doing the best I can."

Dell, Tavish and Terry turned to go, the others following them. Viktor was the only one to stay besides me and a very heavyset man with a sash of bullets. He put a hand on Pauling's shoulder. "_Danke_, Caroline. _Ich liebe dich_."

"Don't thank me, Dad. I should have had you all out by now."

"Caroline?" I spoke up, drawing the four's attention to me. "Dad?!"

"_Dummkoph!_" Viktor growled. "Vat are you still doing here?"

"I was guardin' the Intelligence." I sat down and put my feet back on the table. "An' I was doin' a great job."

"Leetle man is small. And annoying." The other man glared at me with tiny eyes. I doubt he liked me much already. After all, I had shot his shoulder during a Game.

"Sorry." I shrugged. "But…you're her dad? Seriously?"

"_Ja_." Viktor nodded.

Pauling pressed a hand to her forehead. "Dad, stop."

"Well, this is awkward for everyone." I said.

"I need to go speak to my supervisor…" Miss Pauling escaped her dad and hurried over to the secret passage. "Bye. Nice seeing you."

She vanished behind the door.

"Miles, her name must be kept a secret." Viktor said. "If you even tell one person, I vill dismember you."

"Sure thing, doc."

"Good. I have to give our new Sniper ze Überheart transplant." Viktor turned and headed for the stairs, Misha right behind him.

**XxXxXxXx**

**Urgh, I don't know how to write accents and I feel like it's killing the story…**

**Tell me what you think!**

**Remember to review!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28**


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

**XxXxXxXx**

**Yeah, college is kicking my ass and I completely forgot I write fanfiction. I'm really sorry, but I'm trying my best to churn the rest of this story out!**

**XxXxXxXx **

"There's another Game in two days, son."

I glanced up from the magazine I was reading. "Two days?" I asked. "Isn't dat a little bit of a short notice?"

Dell shrugged. "We once had a Game scheduled twenty minutes after the warnin'. Ya learn to move fast."

"Right." I turned back to the magazine, trying not to let my uneasiness show. "Two days. Gotcha."

"Do you know how to fight?"

"'Course I do!" I discarded the magazine. "I'm not dead yet, am I?"

"Lucky for you, Mick needs trainin', too. Ya won't be the only one suffering Jane's wrath." Dell ignored my comment. "An' if ya'll lucky, Miss Pauling will be there to observe yer performance."

"Miss Pauling?" I blurted. "Eh, I guess some trainin' won't hurt a bit."

"Ya'll better hurry. Jane's waiting." Dell turned and headed out of the recreation room. I quickly followed him, adjusting my hat as I went.

**XxXxXxXx**

"Alright, maggots! ATTENTION!" Jane shouted, marching in front of us. I was standing next to Mick, the two of us holding our primary weapons and facing the RED Soldier.

"You want to stay alive, correct?" Jane continued, turning on his heel and continuing marching. He didn't give us a chance to respond. "Then you must learn to FIGHT!"

My attention left him and instead focused on Viktor and Miss Pauling, who were sitting in the far corner of the makeshift training gym. They were both looking at something on a clipboard and casting us periodic glances. I grinned back.

"SCOUT!"

Jane grabbed me by my shirt and pulled my face so close to his our noses touched. "YOU ARE NOT PAYING ATTENTION!"

"I'm sorry!" I struggled to loosen his grip on my collar. Holy shit, his breath stunk!

"You better be!" He forced me away, nearly throwing me into the wall. "Drop and give me fifty! Now!"

I thought I heard Mick snicker. I heaved a heavy sigh and dropped to the floor, struggling to even do ten pushups. I never was very strong, in terms of arm strength.

"Faster, maggot!" Jane growled. "I do not want to die standing here! I want to live a full life!"

"Don't we all?" I gasped. "An' here we are stuck in the games! Life ain't fair."

A forceful boot jammed in the middle of my back stole the air from my lungs. I lay gasping, my hat and headset dislodged from my head from my face forced into the cold concrete.

"You will respect your superior!" Jane roared. "Or I will dispose of you just as easily as America disposes of Nazis!"

I had no idea what he was talking about. He eventually released me from the floor and I stood, adjusting my headgear and casting him a glare he ignored.

"Forget the pushups." Jane said. "I want fifty laps around the gym. Now. You're a Scout! Prove it."

He gave me a push to get me started. I stumbled but regained my footing, setting an easy jogging pace. I reached Miss Pauling and gave her a smile, which she didn't quite catch. She was too busy scribbling on the clipboard. Viktor gave me a glare.

I began to lose count of the laps I was running. As I was carrying out my sentence, Jane was yelling at Mick about not being a shitty Sniper and actually hitting his targets. Apparently the last one RED had was terrible.

"Miles!" Viktor said as I ran past them for the umpteenth time. "You just reached lap seventy."

"Oh." I shrugged. "I didn't notice." My leg muscles were screaming at me, but I ignored them. "Thanks, doc."

"How do you feel?" Viktor continued. He took the clipboard from Miss Pauling and stood, waiting for an answer. "Are you light headed? Any nausea? Anyzing?"

"Uh, no…I feel great." I said.

"_Ja_, good." Viktor wrote something down, not even bothering to look up at me. "Zen ze überheart transplant vas a success. No side-effects."

He sat down again. "Go on, get avay."

I made sure to catch Miss Pauling's eyes and flash her a smile before I jogged back over to Jane.

"Acceptable, maggot. But next time, make it snappy." He growled. "You have to be faster if you want to live!"

"Sure thing." I said.

"Good. Now we move on to target practice." Jane turned. "I will set up the targets. Take five."

"Five what?" I asked.

"He means take a break." Mick sat down and examined the sniper rifle he was still holding. "I really wish I could use my old one."

"You had another rifle?"

"Yeah. Back before I was thrown in this place."

"You were a Sniper before you were in the Games? How?" I asked.

"I was an assassin." Mick said.

"What's that?"

"A hired gun. I was hired to kill blokes that couldn't mind their own damn business." He gave me a cold stare.

This just sparked more questions in my mind, but I was smart enough not to ask them. People would kill each other outside of the Games? Like they killed my supervisor?

"LISTEN UP!" Jane yelled from the other side of the training gym. "I have set up these targets for you. First one to kill theirs wins!"

Two wooden targets were set up, one to look like the BLU Medic and Heavy. I was facing the Medic one, so I set my sights on it. I picked up my scattergun and ran, loading it as I went. I would win this little test, and maybe Miss Pauling will notice what a great Scout I am, and maybe give me a chance. Hell, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen—

A loud _bang_ echoed throughout the training gym, followed closely by another. I stopped in my tracks, staring at the hole in the dead center of the Medic target in front of me. The Heavy's head sported a similar wound.

"Hmm. Good." Jane muttered. "You'll do much better than the other maggot of a Sniper."

I cast Mick a glare. He was still sitting down, the rifle clutched in his hands as he stared through the sights. He looked like a statue; completely still.

"Vell, zis is ze best Sniper I have ever seen." Viktor was giddily writing something down on Miss Pauling's clipboard. "_Ja_, I have faith in him!"

I angrily raised my scattergun and unloaded it in the prop Medic's head, punching it so full of holes it dropped off its shoulders.

"Well, you both seem to have a good grip on the primaries." Jane nodded. "At least you can shoot. Now for secondary."

Mick discarded the sniper rifle and drew a SMG from a holster at his side. This time, he stood. I drew the pistol at my side and fell back beside him.

"Fire!" Jane commanded.

I turned myself sideways and made a big show of dramatically aiming with my right hand, my arm extended fully, my index finger on the trigger. I fired at the Medic prop, the pistol's slight kickback sending a twinge of pain through my locked arm. But I hit it in the shoulder.

While I was doing this, Mick had already unloaded ten shots into the Heavy's chest. This guy was really beginning to piss me off.

"Good." Jane said to the new Sniper. "You're doing well! You will prosper in these Games!"

Teacher's pet. I worked on reloading the pistol.

"Can I give you a few pointers?"

My heart leapt. I glanced up, taking a few steps back. Miss Pauling held out her hand, motioning for the pistol. When did she sneak up on me?

"Uh…yeah." I handed it to her.

"First of all, that is not a safe way to hand someone a weapon." She said. "But we'll worry about that later. You shouldn't lock your arm like you were doing…you could hurt yourself. Especially with bigger guns."

She bent her knees and angled her body slightly sideways, one hand underneath the gun's handle and the other one in a position to pull the trigger. Her elbows were bent. She smelled like lavender. "Like this. You'll have better control over the aim as well."

She fired once, the shot going directly through the prop's chest. She handed me back the gun, aiming it downward. "Make sure you don't point it at anyone when you pass off a weapon."

I took the pistol from her again. "Uh…thanks…" I managed to say.

"Go ahead. Try it."

I mimicked the stance she had been in, successfully shooting through the prop Medic's stomach. Miss Pauling grinned. "See? You've got it already. Good job."

She went and sat back down next to Viktor, who gave me a cold stare. I didn't care.

"Is the private tutoring lesson over?" Jane asked loudly. "Good. Because now it's time for melee."

I pulled the metal baseball bat from the bag that hung over my shoulders. Finally, something I was good at. Beside me, Mick had some sort of sword.

"Have at it!" Jane shouted.

I ran toward the headless Medic prop, baseball bat held over my head. I took a running leap into the air, slamming the bat into my imaginary opponent's neck as I went. I hit it so hard it split in two.

When I turned around to observe the damage I did, Mick had only succeeded in getting the sword stuck in the prop Heavy's torso. Finally, something I was better at. I cast Miss Pauling another smile.

**XxXxXxXx**

It was about midnight and I was sitting at the card table in the recreation room, picking at the lose fibers of the table covering and waiting for the others to show up so they could teach me Poker. Viktor walked into the room and spotted me, saying, "Ah, Miles. Just ze person I wanted to see."

He sat down opposite me. "You asked me if zere was anyzing off limits?" He narrowed his eyes. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah, doc. Why?" I shrugged. "Is there a new rule or somethin'?"

"_Ja_. Very new."

"What is it?"

"Stay away from Caroline."

I sighed heavily. "Why? We ain't doin' nothin'. I don't think she even likes me!"

"Good."

Viktor stood and headed for the door again. "If I see you try anyzing, I will dismember you."

"Sure thing." I gulped. For a brief second, I thought back to when I was part of the BLU team.

I was left to continue picking at the table for another few minutes before Dell and Terry walked in, the Pyro carrying the decks of cards and the Engineer transporting the chips.

"Ready to get ya ass beat, son?" Dell grinned. "I have'ta warn ya…Terry's the best aroun' here."

Terry set the cards down and gleefully clapped. He signed a few things in the air and motioned to the empty seats around the table.

"Tavish, Misha and Jane are comin' along." Dell said. "We'll wait for them."

Terry took a deck of cards from its box and set to work building a castle out of them. He made it look effortless, but I knew if I ever tried anything of the sort it would just come tumbling down.

"Hudda huh!" Terry exclaimed, pointing at the quadruple storied castle. "Hudda!"

"Wow." I said. "It would be a shame if anything happened to it."

Terry lunged for the card castle just as I was about to knock the top one over. He wrapped his arms about it, completely forgetting it was fragile and not meant for bear hugs. The tower collapsed and I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a sniffle from Terry's mask.

"Ooh, you're gonna be the first to lose." Dell laughed.

"Hudda hudda!" Terry hissed, picking up the fallen cards. I made sure to sit away from him.

The three other Poker players arrived in a group, Jane supporting Tavish as he drunkenly sang a strange sounding song.

"O'er the laaaaand! This laaaand of miiiine…!"

"I've heard this one too many times!" Jane shouted. "Sing the Star-Spangled Banner!"

"…I will be waaaaaiting!" Tavish sang louder as Jane deposited him in the chair next to me.

"Do not like loud man singing." Misha muttered, sitting next to Dell. He cast me a glare.

"What did I do?" I asked.

"Alright! Today we teach Miles here how to play like a man!" Jane shouted. "Just watch me, son! I'm sure to win this!" He, Dell and Terry began a game between the three of them..

"Aye, laddie, did I ever tell you how I lost me eye?" Tavish asked, pointing to his face.

"Uh, no…That's all right…" I said.

"Stop infecting him with your Commie lies!" Jane bellowed. On a different note, he added, "I will keep this hand! For America!"

"Darn." Dell muttered. "Trade these in for three more." He passed three cards to me and I gave him three more. He scowled at the new ones.

"I don't understand." I shrugged. "This looks stupid."

"Tiny game is for babies." Misha sighed. "Play better one."

"No!" Jane growled.

"I bet five." Dell said.

"Hudda!" Terry held up ten fingers.

Dell tossed his handful of cards down. "I fold."

"Hudda mmm!" Terry said happily.

"I BET TWENTY!" Jane roared.

"Hudda!" Terry nodded and they both set both hands of cards down. Jane had one king, one queen, and three five of hearts. Terry had two fours and three sevens.

"See what I mean?" Dell said. "He's crazy good."

Terry gleefully clapped and pointed to the cards, head tilted to the side as if in question.

"No, I ain't playin' again." Dell said as the Pyro claimed the stack of chips at Jane's side of the table.

"Play different game." Misha insisted.

"We only have two decks of cards."

"I think I'm gonna go, guys." I stood. "See ya later. I'm kinda tired."

"Hhhm!" Terry waved.

I escaped from the madness of the rec room, following the staircase up to the main floor. Lights were on, but there was still a fair amount of space that remained dark. I couldn't help but feel unsettled.

And I swear I heard voices coming from Jane's room as I reached my own.

**XxXxXxXx**

**I still don't really know how to play Poker, so I hope this was decent enough….**

**Remember to review, please!**

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28**


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